A Year to Detective 3: Regrets and Recollections
by Essai
Summary: Nick's probationary year is coming to an end, with both him and Judy awaiting it eagerly. Familiar problems still exist, and there are plenty of expectations and doubts from both friends and foes. Nick works to make peace with his past and problems while keeping Judy safe, while Judy works to fix past mistakes and corral a killer.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Something to Aspire to**

 **(A/N: The story is back, and I'm hoping it'll be to everyone's liking. 1,500 words a chapter, like usual, to keep it organized and manageable. No, this story won't be as depressing as the last one, I promise.**

 **Enjoy! I'll be putting actual notes in the proceeding chapters, to clear things up and expand)**

* * *

A member of the Gangs Division and a trainee Detective walked down the street, arguing about matters of extreme importance. Their decisions would shape the city for years to come.

I wish.

" I can't believe you don't like it!" she said, eyes glued to the gaggle of foot traffic ahead of us. "Everyone's been writing these great reviews online, there's already talk of a movie coming up…" She glanced over at the road, filled with idling cars and folk dashing in-between cars. It was around five now- congestion was going to be a thing for a while. Breathing through my nose meant taking in car fumes and the smell of greasy food.

" Just because it's Baadacci doesn't mean I have to like it," I countered. " It was interesting the first few times- but I can't keep taking these close escapes and random girls falling for him."

Judy snorted, shaking her head, " But that all happens because he has the skills and the charisma, okay?" she tapped the side of her head, " he thinks quick, and he knows just what to say…"

We found ourselves stopped at the curb, near the bus stop. Judy leaned against the frame of the shelter, fishing in her pocket, and I stood across from her, near a huddle of sheep and weasels.

Our shift started at five- same as it had been for the past month and a half. Made it easier to complete the assignment Chief had put us on, and more time to argue before work started. Arguing about if the new book was good was better than the talks we've had the past few weeks- I'd much rather argue about a lack of reality than rights and wrongs.

The weasel next to me fished out his bus pass, clutching it in one paw while adjusting the cigarette held loosely in his mouth. I wrinkled my nose and stepped back and closer to Judy's side, trying to avoid the smoke wafting towards me.

Judy watched me back away, head tilted a little. " Did `you like the other book, at least?" she said hopefully, " The memoir? That one is realistic, at least, and the guy is a real, uh, a real hero." She sighed, "I just wish life wasn't so _slow_! Some of his stuff took years…"

 _Memoirs of a Great Detective_ , by some guy named Murray. The copy she had lent me was barely still bound together, and most of the pages had her notes in the corners, or stuff she highlighted. I found a note telling me to really focus on this or that part more than once.

" See, now _that_ book-" I leaned against the inside of the bus stop, eyeing the traffic for the bus, "- is actually realistic. That guy, he bust his- uh, his behind to get where he was, and he did it by being smart and patient." I shook my head. " All those action movies, that thriller stuff, it's cool, but it's not _realistic._ Get me?"

" I think so," she said, glancing down at her bus pass. " But that thriller stuff- it's something to work towards, right?" She flipped over her pass, counting how many swipes she had left.

I chuckled, " You want to be the next Jack Savage, Judy? Blowing away the bad guys and stopping the big evil plot?" she frowned, and it deepened when she turned to look at me clearly.

" It's not real," she said firmly, arms crossing. I watched a car barrel down the street, wheels bumping onto the curb. " But it's something to aspire to." She smiled. " I just want you to be as cool as Jack is."

I think she expected the bus to pull up behind her just then, because she turned around with a smug look on her face and took a step towards the street. She jumped back a little when the car zoomed past the stop. I spent the next twenty minutes watching the other people in the stop argue about sports. The Loons are complete trash, apparently.

* * *

As a police officer, I've got certain duties. Keep the public safe, keep them informed, and when they get in my face and want to argue, I keep a straight face and say 'yes, sir,' 'no, sir', 'that's not something I can comment on, sir'. That's what I'm _supposed_ to do, at least. It's a bit harder to keep those ideals in mind when you're talking down a crowd of angry parents in a cramped meeting room.

The first one up was Rufus, Larry's dad. " You promised us some sort of program for the kids weeks ago!" he said, pointing at me accusingly. " Weeks! And ain't nothing happened since you said all that! I'm sick and tired of hearing- "Judy tried to say something, but he spoke over her, waving her away. "–hearing all these stalls, already! We can't afford to keep waiting, man!"

Chief passed it down that we were to help get the families on welfare, show them what was available in the city, and keep the kids out of trouble. No more gangs, in short. Gentrify.

I put on my best smile, taking on a placating tone. " Like the Officer was saying," I said slowly, " We can't make everything magically appear, sir. We're doing our best to get some city funding over here, but you have to understand that-"

Judy spoke up again, stepping in front of me a little bit. I glanced back at the presentation we had been going over. New Opportunities Coming Soon! was a title these folk had seen more than a couple times. They might have seen through the fake cheer this time.

" The City's just trying to make sure everyone gets the right allotment," she said, smiling. " There's a lot of paperwork, and they have to account for everyone's kids, so it's a process, okay?" She glanced around at the families spread in front of us, all crammed together on the office chairs we had dug up from an apartment-turned-storage-room. By now, more than a few folk were on their phones, elbows brushing constantly and lots of attempts to scoot farther away. There were a few in the back rows arguing with each other and pointing at us. Rufus was glowering at me, arms crossed.

I nudged Judy a little bit, and thankfully she took in what I was looking at. She stiffened a bit, bit her lip, and tried to get everyone's attention. A few of the teenage rabbits looked up first, of course- everyone else took a bit longer. When Judy turned back to move the presentation forward, most of the room ducked their heads back down towards their phones.

* * *

" I worked on eleven cars today," he said earnestly, glancing over at a guy at the other end of the meeting room. " And that asshole over there wanted half the cut for working on _two_! What kind of messed-up crap is that?" I shifted on my feet, stifling a sigh. Standing up for three hours was getting to me.

" That _is_ messed up," I agreed, " and I hope Brian picks up the slack, man." I saw Judy pulling away from the huddle of moms, " I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Take it easy."

It was about nine when we finally got out, traffic light and the moon fully out. After making more promises and talking to the same-old folk for the hundredth time that day, we headed out. Judy slowly inched the car past the scratched-up clunkers parked around us, eventually getting onto the main road. I've never gotten used to how quick a city can go from crap to pristine- we pulled away from a neighborhood full of cracked windows and boarded-up doors and ended up next to brand-new four-doors and manicured bushes in five minutes. Going from families carrying out their laundry to the coin place to a team of movers bringing in the new flat-screen is a trippy thing.

Judy didn't say anything at first, just hummed and tapped the steering wheel. It took us getting stuck at a red light for her to speak up.

" One of the moms was telling me how she has no money for food," she said softly, " That the kid doesn't have a dad and that she doesn't have any work experience…" she glanced at me, eyes glum. " Are the checks… Do you know how the welfare checks work, Nick?"

" Uh…" I scratched my neck, stretched. Last time I had gotten welfare was… four years ago? Not like she needed to know that yet, I decided. Too many questions, too much of a pity-party. I'll stick to the gang stuff, for now. " I think so? Welfare covers rent, sometimes phone and TV…" I frowned. Or was that for older folk? " But… but it does help out a good amount. Enough to at least pay the rent. I remember kids can get free school lunches…"

She frowned, shaking her head slightly. " Won't be good food, though…" she said thoughtfully, " Maybe… We can do a donation drive for the neighborhood? Or… Or is that insulting?" her brow furrowed. " We can do more Nick! I know we can!"

We've had conversations like this every day for the past two weeks. Always went the same way- she has an idea, gets worried it's not going to work, and drops it after mulling it over with me. It was still better than what happened the first month- all she did then was mope over the kids and single parents. Stress, stress, and more stress. Whole loads of fun.

" Don't get too stressed out, alright?" I shifted in my seat, stretching my legs out. " We still have to visit Miss Alcoholic." Judy sighed, shaking her head. "Hey," I told her, " she actually _likes_ you, okay? She still forgets to offer me water."

Tabitha Géarr wasn't under arrest, but she was a part of the investigation into her husband's death. As the wife of the Secretary of Transportation, she was important enough to the case to keep under watch. Which meant we checked on her every day- instead of house arrest, we said it was for her safety. I knew she'd listen- not like she could deal with a nutso mouse on her own, and she was supposed to be grieving.

Going to see her gave me an idea, though. I think there was a way to get to these folk, and Judy might like the change of pace. Well, I'm assuming, but I _am_ her best friend- I'll probably be right.


	2. Chapter 2: Plans

**Chapter 2: Plans**

The Ace Detective and I spent the drive over discussing morality and motivation- God, if that doesn't sound pompous… But, that _was_ what had been on her mind the past few weeks.

"But what I don't get," Judy said, pulling into the turn lane and idling at the light, " is what gets them to do it despite all that. There's way too much to lose."

I shook my head, and she glanced over at me, confused. " It's the money," I repeated, " all it is is money, and recognition, sometimes family." I sighed, remembering the spiels I'd heard. "And you can't really leave after a couple jobs- they'll just snitch on you."

" Yeah," she countered, "but wouldn't someone know that before they signed up?" I tried to answer, but she cut over me, " and _not_ the ones that are pressured in- the ones that have time to think."

I shrugged. " Money. They'll pay you good- 'specially when all the legitimate jobs are paying minimum wage." Judy turned the corner, putting us onto the block of the Géarr's.

" It can't be that simple," she said, mostly to herself. " has to be something more that would get someone all twisted up like that, no way…" The last few minutes of the ride stayed quiet. She was off thinking again- same as every other time she and I talked about the other side of the law. Not that I was going to break her out of it. _That_ was just another ten minutes of back-and-forth.

* * *

Tabitha Géarr was under a moderate form of house arrest- she could leave for appointments and necessities with a chaperone, and to take the kids to school, but that was it. We had bugged her phones, just in case she got chatty. Nothing yet, though.

Judy's supervisor, Detective Vicks, happened to be at the Géarr house when we pulled up. He waved at us as we pulled up beside the curb, before his eyes drifted off to eye folk passing by on the sidewalk.

" Hello, Detective," I said, nodding at him. He muttered a hello back, eyes trained on Judy since she had gotten out the car.

" Officer," he said to her, tone even. " How was your assignment today? Anything new?" Judy shook her head, giving the same report as the last few weeks- the boys are antsy but compliant, the parents are anxious, ain't nothing to really report.

" They're losing patience," she reported, " We need a social worker in there, someone more official. If me and Officer Wilde just keep going and making empty promises-"

" They'll send someone," he promised, glancing back at the doorway. " But, you're here to check on Miss Géarr, right?" He smiled briefly, before settling back into a calm mask. " She's been asking about you every five minutes." He shook his head, " I talked to her, but she's taken a shine to you… Get something good, alright?"

Judy nodded, and Vicks began ambling down the steps to the coupe he had parked a minute up. She glanced at me as she went to knock on the door. " I've got another assignment with him soon," she murmured, " hopefully with fewer bodies."

" Don't worry," I said, smoothing out my shirt and standing by her side as she knocked, " For now it's just talking and listening- nice and-"

The door flew open, a swaying and smiling doe rabbit taking up the threshold.

" Judy!" Tabitha Géarr's smile widened, " God, I've been waiting to talk to you all day! What took you so long?" She ushered Judy in, trying to shut the door with her foot in the same motion. I held the door open with a paw, and Géarr stumbled a little, losing track in her conversation. Thankfully. Her voice is a little too whiny for my taste.

I _could_ just sit still, really. This was Judy's part of the day. Or, night, rather. But, wouldn't hurt to see if I could do something productive.

* * *

" That Detective is a complete fool!" she fumed, stomping into her living room and back into the indent she had formed in her couch. " Coming in here unannounced and trying to get me to talk about Thomas! Rude!" She nursed the cup she had picked up from the coffee table, staring at me expectantly.

I crossed my arms briefly, before I remembered I was still in uniform- be professional. Hearing Nick walk up the hallway behind me, I stood by the living room doorway, arms by my sides and face firm. " I told you to be considerate towards my partner, ma'am." She took a small mouthful of- was that vodka?-, struggling to make herself seem ashamed. She managed to at least frown. "I get that there are several complaints you have against him-" she nodded vigorously, "- but you've no proof and-"

" You're letting that fox pull you around, Judy," Tabitha said, pointing in my general direction, " it's not becoming, and how would that look for your career, or even your personal life?"

I've tried, many times, to stop these rants. I think she was just too excited to stop- putting it nicely. Nick had phrased things a little blunter.

So, the answer as always… " I hadn't thought of that, ma'am. But I wanted to talk about-"

" I let Tommy pull me around," she continued, " and I ended up with six kids! Sitting at home all day and having to look over them all! _He_ was a rabbit, and he ruined so many things for me… Imagine what that shifty fox would do to you!"

* * *

Some folk can be so difficult.

" Laura," I said firmly, " You can go home, okay? You don't have to stay here with her."

" But it's good pay!" she countered, " You want me to go home and make eight bucks, when I'm making twenty here?" She crossed her arms and puffed her chest out- at least, I think so. The shirt she was wearing was two sizes too big for her. The blouse she was wearing hung like a dress.

" She doesn't treat you right," I snapped, motioning at her clothes. " You could at least ask her for better fitting clothes!" Laura huffed, glancing back at the stove. Eyeing her cooking. She shuffled her feet a bit, glanced everywhere but back at me.

" And what I am going to tell my mom? " she said indignantly, eyes watching the clock above the kitchen doorway. " No more money because the cop was being pushy?"

I shook my head. " There are better places to work, Laura…"

She shook her head, huffing and turning completely away from me, back to her cooking. " Mom told me you guys are struggling to help the folk back over there- good jobs out there, sure," she said, reaching for seasonings and adjusting the heat, " but not at home."

Stubborn rabbit! Sure, work for the drunk that makes you do everything, that complains all day… Acts like I can't even hear her…

But, those are thoughts. A deep breath, a sigh, and I try to keep my tone flat, caring. It's not hard- she looks sickly dressed like that, and I don't like the look in her eyes.

" You understand if anything goes south over here, you can call the Department, right?" A nod. " You know your last tip caught a few more of them, right?" A pause in the stirring. " Lots of bad guys taken out, and more every day." I paused, " Every new tip means more folk stay safe."

" I only know the ones that came around here," she muttered, " Ain't got no more for you, Officer."

The guys we had bagged all claimed connections with the Secretary. We can't really charge a body, though.

" No mice?" I asked, tone light.

" Not here," she said firmly, " None that I've seen."

It was a direct question, but I don't think she had anything to hide from me, not about that. Most folk want help tracking down their attackers. A dead end, though. Plan B.

* * *

" 'He's just waiting for the right moment, Judy', Ugh!" Judy said. "She's so _miserable!_ All she does is drink now!"

" No new clues, though?" I had my eyes closed, paws resting in my lap. " Some juicy gossip that she let slip?"

" I think she's waiting until I drink with her again," she said drily. I heard a car whoosh past us, cars around us blaring their horns. " Idiot!" she hissed, and I opened an eye. Someone had tried to merge in front of us, taking up half of this and the next lane over. " But no, nothing but a potential motive."

I shut my eyes again, yawning. "Well," I said through the yawn, " if you'd like something productive to do…"

"I don't think her kids have anything useful," she said quickly, " Last time it was just stories about Mom's…" Judy chuckled a little. " Ah, personal trainers."

"Nah ," I said, smiling. " Something to help the folk back in the sketchy part of town."

* * *

I decided to be productive the next day, and was kind enough to help the Detective be so too. Which is why I dragged her out to our beat in the slums at seven-thirty in the morning. It took a lot of willpower to ignore the complaining in my ear on the way over, and a few bribes of food.

I kept my attention forward, ambling past a few cafeterias before coming up to a part of the block with no windows or store signs- Just a lot of brick and a single door. This part of the neighborhood was older- most of the businesses around here had their window text faded away, and what little foot and car traffic there was made everything quiet as could be. But that was why this room was here.

Judy stepped up from behind me, following my gaze to the blue circle with a triangle inside, by the lonesome door. The paint was fresh- still a nice dark shade.

" Oh!" she took a step closer to the symbol, head tilted a little. " That's, um... Alc-"

" Alcoholics Anonymous," I said, nodding. I continued despite her glaring at me. " Someplace we can make friends, and get information." Judy glanced back and forth between me and the door, wary-eyed. " No," I retorted, " this won't be dangerous or depressing, just give it- really?"

I don't think she believed me- might have been the heavy sigh and glances back towards the bus stop. But I'm going to prove her wrong _and_ do something with this dead-end beat!

* * *

Marcus stretched, letting his feet hang off the lip of the stone portion of the gate. Although a bit of a struggle to get up here, it was better than standing in that cesspool of a sidewalk. So much detritus!

" They've finally left," he said, relieved. " You want to go talk to the drunk now?"

" Mhm," I judged the drop back down. Much too far to just hop, would have to turn around and use the bushes again. The glamorous life of a city mouse. " Try not to scare her, alright?"

Marcus nodded, eyeing the least painful path down the bush. " James Cornell, right?" I nodded, and he made his way down, leaving me to plan and hypothesize. This one would have to be a little more clever.

* * *

 **(A/N): This'll be a story with motifs as well, hopefully not ham-fisted. Some notes:  
**  
I struggle between beige and purple prose- dull and flowery. Still looking for a happy medium- don't want to detract from what plot there is so far.

No, this won't be a story about them going to AA meetings, but it kills two birds with one stone- help the community, get them on your side, and help your detective friend understand her mark better.

Laura is Tabitha's assistant/housekeeper, at this point. On loan from the run-down part of town where Nick and Judy are working, sending money back home to support her folks.

Yes, Tabitha is sitting at home drinking at night. Means and a motive- why not? Vicks is there to keep an eye and ask questions, switching off with his trainee.


	3. Chapter 3: Take Things More Seriously!

**Chapter 3: Take Things More Seriously!**

A mechanical knowledge of the use of tools, a knowledge of the effects of poisons, a knowledge of the ways of banking, of the habits of life of the various classes in various callings, a knowledge of crooks, and, above all, a knowledge of human nature, in whatsoever way manifest, are invaluable elements of the equipment of a good detective.

\- Murray, _Memoirs of a Great Detective_

 _This'll be you and me one day!_

 _-_ Hopps, in a note scribbled in that page's margin

* * *

Nick didn't waste any time in making himself comfy once we got back in the car, stretching out as much as he could without bumping into the laptop. Wasn't even listening to Dispatch!

" 'He's just waiting for the right moment, Judy', Ugh!" I said. "She's so _miserable!_ All she does is drink now!" The dispatcher cleared her throat, and I heard Nick let out a huff.

" Address is 280 St. Nicholas Ave, dollar store. Reference… Uh, female sheep, gray shirt, blue jeans, broke the store window," Dispatch cut off for a second- I heard her cough, " claiming she won lottery money and refuses to leave, soliciting passerby for money, getting physical with staff. Case number…. 1949."

Only a few blocks off, something to do to take up the rest of the shift. Might wake up Nick from his little nap, too.

" No new clues, though?" Nick still had his eyes shut, a smile slowly spreading across his face. " Some juicy gossip that she let slip?"

" I think she's waiting until I drink with her again," I said drily. It might've been late, but there were still a good amount of cars out- enough to leave us with a line a dozen cars long at the light- and plenty of folk cutting into the turn lane. " Idiot!" I snapped, Nick jerking up a little and opening his eyes, sighing when he saw that it was some moron cutting through the lanes. " But no, nothing but a potential motive."

He gave me another spiel about doing something more productive, which I think was the third time that day. I'll never get what he considers exciting enough- maybe that'll change when he goes through his Detective training.

God, can't be thinking about that now. Work first. Tabby's sitting at home drinking, what could I get from that? Anger and a sense of betrayal as a motive, and the letters are there, sure, but what else?

" Nick," I began, slowly. " No news on the mouse?"

Nick let out another loud huff, opening his eyes and glaring at me. " Think you can go a day without mentioning her?" he said sourly. I frowned, and he sighed. " No news."

No news from Géarr, or her housemaid, nothing from the roll call summaries. It'd help if the BOLO had pictures or a better description… So, what, just focus on everything else? Or… Maybe Luke would have found something else out. Can't let that nutso keep running around.

* * *

From our spot outside, it was plain where the broken window was- glass was still all over the sidewalk, some of it getting blown around a bit by the wind. Still, there were folk going in and out the store, circling around the mess.

Nick smoothed his shirt out, putting on his cap and grasping the door handle. "'Are you going to be able to handle the suspect, ma'am?'" I muttered, voice light. " ' Want me to help you cuff 'em? Oh, you've got a fox with you, that'll work.' "

" That's only happened forty or so times, Judy," Nick said, making his way out the car. " They just need to see all that muscle and stubbornness you got."

90% prey population meant that with all the predators on the force- big, lots of muscle- not a lot of issue bringing anyone in. No one really fought against cops out of fear of getting busted up bad. It meant that me and Nick had good odds 90% of the time, but it also meant that a lot of folk were surprised to see a small rabbit stepping up to help.

* * *

We got to the dollar store second, behind Officer Bruce and his partner. They ran her plate while we questioned the suspect in what little space there was in the manager's office.

She wouldn't sit in the chair right, always leaning off to one side or the other, constantly tapping her hooves on the floor. My job was keeping her sat up.

"Alright," I said, righting her up for the second time, " Just sit up, okay?" She pushed down when I would push up, grunting and straining as hard as she could. Not that I felt any real pressure while shifting her back up. " Good," I said, placing my paws on her shoulders for stability. "Just let Offic-"

She slammed her head back into my chest, and I almost dragged her down with me when I stumbled back. Thankfully, I didn't end up on my behind, just getting the breath knocked out of me. Just bite my tongue, get the right info…

I took a deep breath, " Don't do that again," I said firmly. Glancing at Nick, I saw him shrug.

The sheep went on talking, staring up at Nick. " I didn't break the window! That's… that's a complete lie, officers!" the sheep protested, glaring at the store manager standing behind Nick. " I came in here, trying to cash my ticket, and then he comes up claiming I'm making a scene…" Me and Nick glanced at her arm, a few bits of glass shining under the lights, stuck in the wool.

Nick nodded slightly, pen tapping his notepad, " Well, you _did_ start screaming and reaching across the desk, right?" she shook her head, and Nick continued, " So you didn't call everyone, uh, freaking assholes and try to punch the cashier?"

" No!" she cried, trying to stand up from the chair. I gripped her shoulder, and she grimaced, trying to push me away from her. She glanced at Nick pleadingly. " I just wanted to come in to cash my ticket, get whatever money I could, and buy some food. I got three kids at home, they don't have a father…" She broke out into a sob, made a big show of leaning forward and crying into her lap.

" How old are you?" Nick said, flipping through his notepad. She kept crying, same as when Nick asked for her address. We didn't get a clear name from her- first it was Lauren, then it was Maria.

Nick clicked his pen a few times, and I watched as he fought from sighing, his chest expanding and the breath passing slowly out his nose. " Alright, ju-" he coughed heavily, placing a paw on the manager's desk until the coughing let up, "Lauren," he said, leaning down a little to look at her eye-to-eye, " you can make this a lot easier for everyone, okay? We can search you up, and waste everyone's time, or you can just tell us what really happened."

Lauren glanced at me, back at Nick, and then at the manager hovering near the door out of his office. Justin and Bruce came back from their patrol car, and Nick leaned into a huddle to get the details on our suspect. In short: Rebecca stole the car from her sister's (Lauren's) house, along with the sister's wallet. This would be the third time she'd done that, and, going by what I found in her bookbag, the first time she'd get busted for drug possession.

* * *

Since we spoke to her second, the sheep would go with us. Nick and I managed to get her out into the parking lot and into the car with only a few seconds of dragging.

" Thank you so much, ma'am," the manager and I shook paws, and he motioned vaguely around his chest. " Are you going to be alright? That must've been painful, and not just because of, ah-" he glanced away from me for a second, watching the sheep argue with Nick by the car, " That hit must've been a real shock to the bones, hopefully nothing broke."

He saw the look on my face, gave a small start. " Oh, did I get that wrong? It's just… lots of rabbits I grew up with had fragile bones, lots of hospital visits…"

He and I shifted around. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

" It's fine, don't worry!" I said placatingly, a smile spreading across my face. " I'm fine, nothing broken."

Since when did rabbits have fragile bones? I thought the stereotype was strong legs and lots of babies, but _bones_?

* * *

Nick turned around in his seat the second time she kicked the window. " Stop," he said firmly. " Alright? You keep-" she kicked at the grill dividing the car, went on screaming and crying about things being unfair. She kept it up the entire ride.

We went to the hospital for the arm, got told that she didn't need to get the drugs flushed out, then off to the jail. Drove to a parking lot nearby to write out the report for the sheep, and the evidence.

I stood near the trunk of the car, writing my last bit of the report for the evidence. Nick was busy searching through the back for anything our passenger had dropped. We've found everything from drugs to weapons- I guess they hope we won't see it laying there?

" Who even thinks rabbits have fragile bones?" I said. Nick coughed, but didn't add anything. I tried to make sense of it, but really? It's not like I'm some bird!

" That was something," Nick said, angling his flashlight around the backseat. " No cracks in the window," he murmured. It's funny how someone will scream sorry but still try to break everything around them. Nick dug himself out the car after a few more minutes, sitting in the passenger seat and finishing his report. I heard him sigh more than once.

Nick kept in step with me as we walked away from the station, his eyes glued to his phone. " You want the taxi to meet you at the gas station?" he said, thumbing the screen and moving the pin around. " You gonna sleep okay this time?"

"You don't want to talk first?" I said, leaning against the nearby building wall. Eight hours of work and nothing to say? " I haven't got tired of you complaining yet, Nick," he gave a short _hmm,_ rolled his shoulders, sighed for what I think was the thirtieth time today.

" It's nothing new," he said dismissively, " I just-" he glanced at me, shifting on his feet. "- I'm bored." He paused, then started pacing in a circle around our corner. " You would think that we'd end up getting the more exciting arrests. Give me a drunk honey badger, some angry bear or something."

" Because you can handle a bear," I countered, and Nick nodded energetically. I scoffed, and he waved me off.

" See, I have an idea, Jude." He said, eyes lighting up, " Something you and your fragile bones can handle."

* * *

I grabbed her a chair from the stack, settling it in the back of the room next to mine. Judy had scooted herself as far back to the wall as possible, paws clasped and held against her knees.

" You said hi already?" I asked. She shook her head, and I glanced to the right at the table full of the Rise-and-Shiners. A couple of folk had made themselves comfy at a table near the side of the room. One chubby elk, a few does and ewes, a teen probably here on court order…. Judy could handle them. With a few very sharp nudges in their direction.

" Mornin'," I said, making my way over to the table. " Me and my friend here-" I nudged Judy again, and she smiled at the clump of mammals in front of us, "-wanted to say hello." After shaking a couple of paws and hooves, I continued, " It's an open meeting, right?"

The elk nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket and thumbing open- oh, good. Cigarettes. I turned my head to look at the others seated around, and I had the pleasure of seeing the ewe holding out a lighter for the girl beside her.

It's just smoke. That fire was different, had all those chemicals in it, this is just some nicotine and-

" Nick?" I felt Judy gently shake me by the shoulder. " What'd you say?"

I glanced down and found myself back in the chairs we set. About thirty more folk had settled in while I'd been, um, thinking. The bell hadn't dinged yet- no one up at the desk near the front.

I settled back into my chair, and tried to avoid breathing through my nose. " Make sure I stay focused."

* * *

 **(A/N: I did some of the last chapter again, yes. To me, Nick is relating the stuff he finds interesting- everyone has their own story, and in his side of the story, he sees the beat stuff as fluff. Judy sees their daily stuff as important and weird at times, which is why it's coming across here. Nick wants something more and something done on his terms, which I'm hoping is obvious.**

 **I also thought that it was important to show that although Nick is bored, Judy is just as used to their beat- which is why she's bothered more by the odd comments than anything else.)**


	4. Chapter 4: Focus On What's Important

**Chapter 4: Focus On What's Important**

A LIST OF BLESSINGS

 _One exercise that I practice is to try for a full inventory of my blessings..._

— AS BILL SEES IT, p. 37

What did I have to be grateful for? I shut myself up and started listing the blessings for which I was in no way responsible, beginning with having been born of sound mind and body. I went through seventy-four years of living right up to the present moment. The list ran to two pages, and took two hours to compile; I included health, family, money, A.A. – the whole gamut.

Every day in my prayers, I ask God to help me remember my list, and to be grateful for it throughout the day. When I remember my gratitude list, it's very hard to conclude that God is picking on me **.**

\- May 21, 2016 Daily Reflection of Alcoholics Anonymous

* * *

The meeting room had filled up quickly in the minutes before the meeting. From where I was in the back, I could count a few dozen packed into rows, some clustered around tables. A good mix- guys and girls, had some of the usual prey like sheep and rams, but a few badgers and even a couple of stoats chatting up some chipmunks.

Judy glanced down at the laminated piece of paper one of the guys from the front had handed back, mouthing the words. Her face scrunched up after a while, and she let it rest on her lap a while. " Mentions God a whole lot," she said, puzzled. " It's a support group, right? Wouldn't you want to focus on practical stuff to avoid drinking?"

I shifted in my chair, an eye on the clouds of smoke forming on the ceiling of the room- more than half of the folk in here had lit up a cig or had been puffing on a vape. I thought they had gotten rid of smoking in AA groups. " It's not God like in church," I murmured softly, scooting closer to her. " God is whatever they feel it is. Something that'll help them through the drinking."

" That's different," she said thoughtfully, leaning forward in her chair a little, eyeing the group of dudes sat in front of us, clapping each other on the back and going on about their last vacation. " I… I thought that AA was more serious, that it was all lectures and-" The bell dinged, and Judy straightened herself up, ears perked towards the hare that had pulled himself onto the desk-seat up front.

The hare dinged the bell a handful of more times, glancing down at the pile of papers in front of him. He cleared his throat a bit, smiled, and began the meeting.

" My name is Will," he began, trying to keep his voice high enough for everyone to hear, " and I'm an alcoholic," the whole room let out a hello, and he continued from the sheet in front of him, " I'd like to welcome everyone today to the 9 o'clock Rise-and-Shine Mixed meeting- I'll be your facilitator, walking you through the process. Is there anyone today visiting, from out of town, or here on court order?"

Feet shuffled, throats cleared, but no one raised a paw. I glanced at Judy, who seemed to be working on making herself as small as possible in the seat. She had even pushed her ears flat to keep from being picked out.

I think that's why she hit me when I raised my paw.

" I'm Nick!" I began, becoming more cheerful the more the Detective frowned at me, " and me and my friend here are visiting, just trying to find the right fit." Another chorus of hellos, lots of nods and glances towards the doe rabbit scrunched up in the back. " That's Judy," I said, shaking her shoulder playfully and ignoring her glaring, " she's searching for answers."

Thankfully, the room wasn't big enough to where I had to shout too loud. No need for folk to pass what I said up to him.

Will nodded at me, smiled at Judy. " Miss Judy, can you read the Twelve Steps please?" Judy glanced around for a bit, then down at the paper on her lap. " Loud as you can, sorry if it's hard to read."

Judy let out a deep breath, eyes darting from the paper to those in front of us every few seconds. " We admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable. Two-" The whole room repeated the 'two', which made her jump a little, but she went on. " Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could… could restore us to sanity,"

She read it good, didn't fumble on any words. Will thanked her at the end, and- well, I started noticing the smell of the smoke more. The smoke had made a thick carpet up by the ceiling, and it was sticking to my clothes…. It wasn't the same, not by a long shot, but it didn't have to be.

* * *

I'll admit I wasn't expecting this kind of atmosphere. I thought it was more... controlled? Not everyone smoking and cussing. _Definitely_ not Nick pointing us out. But at least everyone was focused on today's discussion instead of me.

" My name is Lydia, and I'm an alcoholic," said the ewe in-between puffs of her cigarette. " This will be my first month sober," everyone started clapping, some of the group even got up to give her a quick hug before settling down. " And I- well, I don't agree too much with today's reflection, Will. 'Blessings I wasn't responsible for?" she took a long drag of her cigarette, " I feel like that a load of- I'm sorry, but- that's a load of shit, because I had to work my ass off for a whole load of things. The alcoholism, sure, God's been helping me with that, and I'm grateful to her, but I managed to find the job that's paying the bills, and I'm the only one taking care of Cassie after the hospital." She shook her head, " I feel like I have things that I did, that I should be proud of." She leaned back in her chair, eyes focusing on her lap. " That's all I got today."

I heard Nick mumble something, but it petered off after a second. Was he looking for me to pick out something? Lots of opinion, lots of hurt and a want to make things your own…

I heard Nick cough hard, and I turned over to him. He waved me off, eyes darting back and forth. " I'm listening," he mumbled. " I'll… I'll let you know if anything." Trying to get him to talk just had him wave me off, up until Will called on someone else.

" Roger," I heard Will say, warmly. " Go on, man."

Roger turned out to be a stoat sitting up from us, who sat up in his seat, shifting around. " I'm Roger, and I'm an alcoholic, uh, been twenty-five years sober." More than a few of us perked our ears up, sat up a bit more. " I, uh, I really liked the reading today- sorry, Lydia- because I'm just so grateful for the things I still have. I lost so much after going to prison- my kids don't talk to me anymore, always tell me how much they hate me, that they can't respect me," he glanced around at those surrounding him, arms crossing.

Lots of stress, lots of loss. That poor man, losing all that. It's really something when you can pull yourself back into a productive shape.

Roger continued, speaking quickly, " but, even with all that, I can still find things to be happy about, I got friends that call me every day, I got my sponsor keeping me from slipping back, and I can get my bills paid. I have a place to sleep at night, I'm not ending up drunk in the gutter again at three in the morning because of cravings…"

* * *

The meeting kept going, with some of the group talking for two minutes, some for twenty. I caught myself leaning forward more than once.

"So!" Roger stood by the front desk, next to a stack of coins. " We got your silver chips! For when you're starting your journey again, at 24 hours sober… Would anyone like to be brave enough to start it with us today?"

There was a small cheer from a corner of the room, one of the younger adults from our beat pushing himself out of his chair and through a barrage of back-claps and folk giving congratulations. If I had the right guy, he couldn't have been more than 23. Nick mumbled something about them getting younger every year.

More tokens were shown, for each level of sobriety- three months, six, one year. The cheers were always loud when someone went up, and the look in everyone's eyes when they took a token… It was like something clicked for them, that things had come together.

* * *

" I lost count of all the hugs," Judy said, squinting against the sunlight. " And- ugh, so much smoke! I didn't think it'd smell this-" She pulled on the back of my shirt hard, " Nick! I'm so sorry! I didn't think about-" she ran up in front of me, peering into my face and brushing at my shirt like that was going to get the smell off. " Are you okay?"

It took another few breaths to get a clear sense of the fresh air around me, and even then I could still smell the smoke, clinging to my shirt. I just had to keep steady, feet on the ground…. Today's May 21st, focus on that. Focus on today.

" Fine," I said, letting out a deep breath, " Just tell me what you thought, alright?" Hopefully, she wouldn't think I was being snippy.

She nodded, arms crossing as she followed me up to the bus stop. " Pain, loss, trying to make sense of it all and dealing with a loss of face, getting back on your feet… so much ritual, too…" she said, stepping over a gap in the sidewalk. She spoke up again a few minutes later, once we had reached the bus stop. She leaned against the bus stop pole and kept her eyes down towards the sidewalk. " If… if that's what can happen, then maybe I can use that in a talk with Tabby, get her to trust me with deeper stuff…" She bit her lip, sighed. " Is that… is that right, Nick? You think so?"

I shrugged, and Judy's face dropped a little, her brow furrowing. " Sympathy is nice, I guess. I don't think a lady like her wants to talk about deep stuff. You'd have to trick it out of her, get her to slip up." It wasn't the answer she wanted, I'm sure, but I didn't have no patience right now.

" Well," Judy said, " I can at least try, right? Slow and steady." She nodded, wringing her paws, " But… I think this might help us get further!"

* * *

Nick kept talking to himself during the walk to the stop, and on the bus back to his neighborhood. Grabbing his arms, shaking his head, ears flattening- not good. I still didn't know what to tell him- everything I tried got me an " I'm fine, I got it." Being stubborn, but I can't force him to do anything.

The night beat didn't improve things.

* * *

As much it annoyed Nick, Thom was our superior, being the longest-serving out of the officers on scene, and the one we had to brief on the situation we ran into. No matter how nasty he was being.

" Shut up for a second, alright?" Thom glanced at the ambulance crew running by with our victim, the stretcher rattling and squeaking under the pig's weight. The last of the attendees were making their way out, their bags and things hurriedly slung over shoulders, " Plain English, none of your shit, Nick."

Nick took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the frown on his face. " Cornell got stuck with poison, Corporal. Tastes like garlic, really strong paralytic- same used by that mouse Hopps has been hunting."

Thom's face scrunched up, and he turned to me. " Ideas, Judy?" his voice dropped when he spoke to me, more careful. " Why would Parko go after this guy?"

This turned out to be a question with way too many answers.


	5. Chapter 5: I Do it For Your Sake

**Chapter 5: I Do it For Your Sake**

* * *

" It's not going to fit," I said, slouched against her front door. " I'm too big- it'll probably just tear or something."

" It'll fit!" she insisted, digging under her bed. " I'm not going to let you keep walking around in that shirt! You think I can't see your face?"

Judy actually noticed something different about me today—me being moody had got her mad on the bus ride back home. She chewed me out for forcing myself to sit on all that smoke, dragged me up here to stuff me in one of her dad's old shirts.

While she spent her time digging through her suitcases, I took the time to look around the box she called an apartment. I was still 95% sure that I could touch both sides of the room by stretching a bit. She wanted to save her money, apparently. Every few months it came up, it was always 'the money's going to something important.' I've never seen her add anything new to the apartment beside photo frames.

She pulled out a shirt that looked like it cover her twice over. It was long enough that she had to fold it up in half- no way that was her Dad's. " Look, just wear this until work. I'm not- don't 'ugh' at me!- I'm not letting you walk around having a fit because of the smell."

Being outside for a bit had taken away a lot of the smoky smell, but it lingered enough for it to register in my head. It _would_ be nice to wear a different shirt, but to wear that bedsheet of a t-shirt…

" Take your shirt off, Nick." I glanced down at my shirt buttons, back up at the bossy rabbit trying to hide a smile. " We don't have all day! I have to stop by to see Ashleigh, and you still owe me breakfast…"

I _really_ wanted to joke with her, about payment or if she was going to make a video out of it. But my stomach was growling louder each minute, and hunger won out.

She wasn't very good at keeping her eyes from wandering—aren't Detectives supposed to be subtle? I've been subtle. I threw my shirt in her hamper, reached for the shirt. Ms. Difficult decided to throw it on her shoulder and take her sweet time walking over, making a bad job out of pretending to stare at my face. She got the furrow back in her brow quick, though, by the time she got over to where she really wanted.

" I thought it'd be thicker by now," she pawed through the patchy fur on my side, messing with the hairs that had just started growing out, trying to find what was left of the scars. She was fussing over that enough to miss the comment I made about phrasing.

The rat that had messed me up got a few months ago had gotten a few good hits on me- guy had some sharp claws- and that meant scars and the hospital shaving off all the fur on my side so they could work on me. I looked ridiculous, but Judy worried more about if the scars were healing okay.

I let her push everything around a bit, tried not to flinch when she brushed against the scabs. " Please don't cry again," I pleaded, grabbing the shirt off her shoulder. " It's not your fault, and it's almost gone."

Same as the last time, she frowned and shook her head, " That's all on me," she said firmly, " _You_ can't see the whole thing, Nick!" she sighed, stepping back from me and rocking on her heels, eyes downcast, " Alright? That's not something that I can just... apologize away again."

She fussed over me a while longer, trying to see if I kept the scars clean and if I went back for checkups at the hospital. It took repeated reminders of food to get her going again. The rest of the morning was her sighing and looking at me all sad-eyed.

* * *

" Please stop laughing," Marcus said tiredly, " Alright? Just for a second?" Of course he wouldn't be as happy as I was- those young-adult preoccupations of his- girls, studying, nothing long-term- but he could at least stand to be more empathetic! Wasn't that part of his career description?

" Come on," he said, motioning to his left. " Hurry and get cleaned up."

It wouldn't do to walk home looking like this. Marcus had found a solution rather quickly, though. His frown didn't shift the first time through.

" I can still smell it," Marcus said, wrinkling his nose, " Did you really have to go the extra mile and get all that blood on you?" He turned his head, saw the spray coming in his direction, and ducked his head down, cupping his ears. I watched him spit out water a few seconds later. What would the homeowners think, seeing a bunch of miscreants on their lawn?

I shrugged, making sure to keep clear of the sprinkler on our way out of the lawn. " That's what happens when you give me advice, " Glancing back at Marcus, I could see him scowling at me, " Cheer up! It means we won't have to make a return trip."

" You could have gone to the hotel," Marcus fumed, following me into the hazards of foot traffic, dodging feet and sidestepping flying bits of paper and plastic, " Could've waited in the car, somewhere more quiet! That's the damn point! "

" Well," I said, skirting past a stroller wheel, " Will it make you feel better if I promise to listen better next time? "

Marcus didn't seem to appreciate my wit today.

* * *

The auditorium was mostly empty, a few other officers poking around, looking under seats for left-behind items. Trying to get info out of the few who had stayed behind to give us the scoop. Short version is, the pig had been giving a speech in the school today, making a stop on his worldwide lecture series. He had collapsed halfway through and kept complaining about his guts and how he couldn't move.

Thom stomped down the steps to the stage, glancing down the aisles occasionally. He fiddled with the brochure we had picked up near the front. Today's lecture was _The Unequal Evolution of Species: What Can be Done?_

" Well," Thom said, " That lecture stuff's a good motive, isn't it? You wouldn't want someone to keep talking crap about you," he glanced back at me, " it's kinda public though. That the mouse's M.O., Nick?"

I flipped through the rest of the brochure, seeing smaller talks throughout the rest of the day. _The Benefits of Genetic Modification, The Perils of Playing God._ All a part of _The Lecture Series on Improvement for All._ " I don't know much about an M.O," I said, continuing to step down to the stage, " The mouse wasn't very picky about the jobs they took, long as it paid good."

Thom and I reached the stage, keeping an eye for anything sticking out under the glare of the stage lights- there might have been a needle or something left behind. No dice at first, just plenty of blood to avoid, pooling and starting to stain the wood.

" That's all you know?" he said, grimacing at the little splotches that stuck to his foot, " Shouldn't you know her from A to Z?"

" All I know is that she stabs people, bit of a nut, likes her drugs, " Thom's face dropped a little bit, he shook his head and said something about me holding out. I went across the stage one more time, keeping an eye for anything shining, trying to stick to the far edges of the stage and keep everything fresh for evidence. Nothing stood out initially, but the third time around I did see some footprints leading out the blood. Tiny ones, close together. The blood was thick enough to stop me from sniffing anything useful out, though.

We gave up after a few more minutes, letting the crime scene techs come in and do their job. Maybe they'd get something useful.

* * *

Vicks and I had a handful of witnesses left to go. The ones we had already interviewed had given us bits and pieces- an angry crowd, the pig falling over after talking about mice. Bits and pieces.

" What did you see?" I asked, watching the beaver- Mary- shuffle from foot to foot, paws clasped together. We were in the corner of the auditorium entrance, by the front door. I could see other officers trying to break up clumps of curious passerby, students headed to class or back to their dorms.

" Cornell had just started his speech," she said, " Lots of us were booing him, lots of yelling… There was a lot of back and forth about him being allowed to be here, lots of shouting and-" She took a deep breath, rubbing her neck fervently.

" When did he fall over, though?" I asked, " What happened before that and what happened when he fell?"

" He was talking about brain size," Mary said, nodding, still rubbing her neck. " That… Mice, all of them smaller ones, that they didn't have the brainpower to be useful, should be seen as vermin. Lots of us got mad, someone tried to go up on stage and pick a fight with him."

" Who did?" Vicks said, stood by my side.

" Some fox," Mary said, " She got all loud, tried to push past security and called him all sorts of names, kept calling him out on stuff." She went on about the fox getting kicked out, the lecture going on and ending with Cornell almost taking a dive off the stage. Apparently, he just stopped talking, started kicking and hollering, and flopped over. The next few we interviewed talked about all the blood that ended up on stage, that a few others had tried to run up on stage too. Cornell's leg had ended up torn up pretty bad.

* * *

A while later, Nick and I sat in the patrol car, writing out notes for the full report. I think 40% of my work hours involved writing out reports.

" 'The blood was coagulated and thick', is that right?" Nick flipped his pencil over, tapping his notepad. " Victim was taken by paramedics at… eight-thirty?"

" Close enough," I murmured. " You and Thom figure out what Gangs is going to do?"

Nick snorted, " 'Nick, when we get back, you've gotta tell us everything, okay? No holding out on us, man. I want you to help us finish this quick.' And then he kept talking about doing searches and how we should question all the mice…" He chuckled, " Probably gonna stick his head into the mouse-holes and just shout at everyone to come out."

" Hmm." We sat there for a while longer, trying to pour all the little details into our notes, an ear perked for anything coming up into the radio. Nick brought up the vixen Mary had mentioned—wanting to go after her. He made a big show of sighing and slouching when I told him that I'd handle that.

" Do you think," Nick said slowly, as I started the car up and headed back to the station, " that she'll come out if we keep saying we only got a few days until retirement?"


	6. Chapter 6: Getting Along

**Chapter Six: Getting Along**

Crime is a disease. It is hereditary, just as consumption is hereditary. It may skip a generation or even two or three generations. But it is an inherent, inherited weakness…The disease may be checked: in some instances it may be averted, but the crime-germ, if I may use the word, is there, lurking in the life of the victim.

-Murray, _Memoirs of a Great Detective_

* * *

Thom had found me in the parking lot after last night, and wanted to drag me to his desk so we could compare reports, get ideas flowing. I wanted to turn everything in and go home, because this was around midnight, but Thom, being the nice guy that he was, didn't let up the nagging. After about twenty minutes of him breathing down my neck, I gave in. The back-and-forth of his footsteps was making my headache worse.

We accomplished nothing, but Thom didn't seem to mind one bit that he had someone's report to reference. Apparently, it was so good, that he copied most of it word-for-word.

It was almost like the Gangs Division already had a case file on Panya that we could just look up.

That time wasted led to today's conversation in the locker room. I could swear that he was slowing down his routine so that me and him could keep chatting. I'd glance over and I could see him eyeing me, going on about his ideas for what we could do. The bustle of the other officers didn't do enough to shut him out.

" Just… Something _more_ ," Thom said, pulling on his undershirt, " Right? So we get done quick?" I focused on buckling my belt and fixing my gigline, which got him peeved enough to walk over. I looked up to find him leaning over me, staring down and smiling wide enough to show teeth. " You have to work with me, okay? You're still adjusting to working legit, I get that, but I need you to hurry up that process."

I sighed, focusing on fixing my crooked collar, making sure the medals and nametag were centered right. " Already told you that I don't know much, alright? Wasn't like I was running with them. Didn't really fit in."

Thom sighed, leaned a bit more down towards me. I didn't focus on him for long, pushing past him and moving towards the door.

" I'll expect some good work on the beat then, Nick," he called, " Impress me with all those skills Judy talks about."

* * *

That wouldn't be the last I saw of him- we were to go out on patrol in the most likely areas for Panya and her crew to be. Captain didn't give us much to work with for now, just 'deter and intimidate'. Normally, there's a plan, and plenty of intel thanks to our Detectives. The change in pace came from up high-the Mayor called Chief up and let him have it for not protecting the pig properly. Never-mind that the campus police weren't even real cops, and that we didn't exactly have the means of catching fault, though, so fix it quick before things get worse.

I think Thom was enjoying me being in his car. The seatbelt covered most of my body, my feet rested a comfortable distance away from the edge of the seat, and I had to endure him opening and closing the door for me. I felt like a baby. I caught the wolf smirking at me more than once.

Most of the ride was quiet, save with the few times we got out to stretch and do some patrolling—he liked to pull rank and get me to do menial things, or try to correct my posture. Halfway to our second spot of the day (the first one being a dud), he finally started a real conversation.

" Nick," he said, eyes on the road, " I get that I'm giving you a lot of crap, but you got to understand what I've seen out there, okay?" He shifted in his seat, voice raising." This is supposed to be the melting-pot town, right? All that means is that there are a few more species in lock-up, that some crimes happen more often."

" Uh-huh," I said, cautiously, " I look like someone you caught?"

He chuckled, shook his head. " Nah, never arrested a fox before. It's just—well, you were a part of all that shady shit, right? Thieving, stripping cars, dealing dope and all that?"

" No," I said, arms crossing, " I didn't ever do any of that. But keep going."

He leaned forward in his seat a little, paws tapping the steering wheel. " I've arrested some young kids doing all that," he said, solemnly, " Twelve, thirteen. Thinking that they were invincible. But— hold on, let me finish — "

I dropped my argument, for now. Just let him run out of steam,thenI can tell him how many of that same group I've booked.

" The point is," he said quickly, " Is that those kids grew up into punks, got arrested on felonies and are still going in and out of the system. I only saw one or two of those kids change into something productive, and you know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. " They left that life ASAP, no matter who they lost. They cleaned up and did something productive."

"That's great," I said flatly, arms still firmly crossed, " You trying to say that I might still be one of the bad ones?"

He nodded, eagerly. " _Are_ , Nick."He glanced at me, frowned a little, " It's just facts. You're, what, thirty-four? And you joined up about a year ago?"

"If you're gonna say that I'm still shady _again_ -" I said, voice rising, " I've literally run into burning buildings, I took down the guys I ran with, I work my beat properly. What else do you want?"

He glanced down at me, with a look I could only call condescending. There I was, the tiny little fox sat next to the big wolf. " You can't get rid of a lifetime of bad just by doing your job." His brow furrowed, " And stop bringing up the fire. I've been stabbed- you see me going around talking about it?" he let out a deep breath, " And you're the thirtieth guy to do the whole fire thing. You did what everyone expected you to do."

I wanted to argue. But what was the point?He's as stubborn as anything, and if I get him mad enough I might end up mauled. Just sit, fume, and wait for him to shut his mouth.

* * *

Second stop was one of the main murid exclaves in the tenements. The building we were in now was sandwiched in-between two of the nicer communities—a good place for a hitman to hide out, easy access to clients. At least, that was the theory.

Today was scoping out and laying the groundwork for an information network. The general idea was for us to phrase things in a helpful way. Find the mouse, but be nice about it. If she runs, fine. Make friends and get someone to snitch.

I don't think Thom liked our approach to getting contacts. Lying flat on the ground and peering into a small hole had him squirming around. After shouting a bit too loud into the mouse-hole, we got a bunch of scared residents come out and shout at us. It took Thom asking one of the older men for help, nicely, to get us anywhere. Thom was brushing dust off his uniform when the guy came out.

The mouse was nervous when he came out—kept glancing back to his home, complained about us trying to fill hiring quotas. I took the lead, explained why we were there, told him we wanted to protect the community more in light of the lack of oversight.

Our mouse friend was frowning, though. Not good. " You could put a stop to the guys going around calling us vermin," he said crossly, " Instead of bothering me on my day off." The furrowed brow, the crossing arms, the angry tone—he'd go back and forth depending on if he was looking at me or Thom.

" We'll get to that," Thom said, a hint of irritation in his voice, " But we need to know if there's anything going on here that needs solving now."

" There was someone out here a couple days ago," the mouse offered, " wouldn't stop going on about how he could help us out, get us some good amounts of cash,"

Thom stopped down a bit more, eyes wide. " Did you catch a name?"

The mouse shook his head, eyes flitting away from Thom's gaze quickly, " No, just that he worked at Zoo U, wanted to recruit us for a research study."

That's where the pig had given his lecture. The mouse couldn't give us any sort of physical description, though—according to him, 'whatever color his fur was, I couldn't tell you." Back in the car, Thom cussed him out for being colorblind, said he was sure that the mouse was screwing with us because no mice won the last elections.

We spent the rest of the shift going around, introducing ourselves and getting frigid responses,requests to shut other bigoted speakers down. We had to smile and make promises neither of us could carry out. But, at the end of it, we had more than one mouse mention mice-centered research studies at the university. No one had signed up for them because they had a bad reputation for mistreating subjects.

Four stops later, Thom and I sat in the car writing out the last of our notes. No names of researchers, no one wanted to name any participants, and no one had made mention of Panya. But, if someone was mistreating mice…

"Seems weird the mouse hasn't done anything yet," Thom murmured, " Maybe they're lying, trying to cover for her?" He huffed, " Not like someone to just give up info that specific so fast."

I tapped my pencil against the notepad. " Still, if we get any more high-profile deaths…" Thom sighed. We'd drop off our findings with the Detectives later that day, hoping that they'd find something more useful.

* * *

 **(A/N: Now it's Nick and Thom's turn to hang out. I've gotten requests for Thom to die before, so let's see how this goes. Oh, and mice can only see in yellows, blues, and grays. Their eyesight isn't the best, especially compared to other animals.)**


	7. Chapter 7: Remember the End Goal!

**Chapter Seven: Remember the End Goal!**

" Alright," he said, dusting his paws off. " Mom'll be here soon. She'll bring food, just try to clean up the rest of this…" Marcus motioned towards the rest of the dishes and discarded bits of food around the living room, "...before she gets here." I still didn't get how he managed to clean all those dishes so fast. A week's worth of a pile, gone in a few minutes!

I paced around the living room again, picking up bits of trash here and there, grimacing at the crumbs either falling or already piled up on the floor. The room smelled… musty… and I wondered if Marcus ever had that smell stick to his clothes. He did enough already. I didn't need him getting singled out as the smelly one because of me…

" Hey, " Marcus nudged me, balling up the trash I was holding and tossing it in the trash. " No moping, alright? Wait for Mom, go outside for a bit, maybe go see a movie somewhere, eat some lunch…"

" Do they have lunch at your school?" I asked, " I got money on my card, I could get something with you before your class, right?"

Marcus smiled a little, shook his head. " Not at this school. Just wait for mom and go out with her." Marcus gave me a hug, grabbed his things near the door, and made his way out, after teasing me for trying to cramp his style with the ladies.

All I had to do was wait for Irene to come, wouldn't be long. She'd fuss over me, try to get me to look proper, empty out the bedroom- same as always. I wondered if Judy would come visit today- always nice seeing her. And she was a good girl, always listening, asked good questions.

For now, just wait. Read a book, walk outside, anything to keep from falling into that funk again.

* * *

Vicks tapped the steering wheel, watching the line of cars ahead of us. He must've heard me fidgeting around in my seat, because he glanced over at me. " So, Judy," he said, voice light, " you nervous about moving into the big leagues?" The smile he gave was barely visible, just a slight lifting of the corners of his mouth. " All the way from Homicide to interviewing college students;" I said no, and he chuckled, " Now's the real horrible stuff, Judy. Just be prepared for what we end up seeing or smelling in those dorm rooms." The line inched forward, and Vicks sighed when two more cars cut ahead of us. " If it's anything like my nephew," he said, " You'll feel disappointed by the end of this."

Detective training wasn't that bad- at least, not as bad as I thought it would be. Vicks had walked me through the process pretty nicely. Last week we had done Violent Crimes training, and Homicide before that. With the Panya thing, Det. Vicks thought it would be the smart thing to do my Career Criminal training. I was just happy to not have to look at stabbing victims again- trying to piece together what got them to that extreme, having to poke around their body, seeing that empty face… Homicide wasn't my cup of tea.

But I need to focus on what's happening today. Go see the students, get more info, and hope we find a lead. Today should be easy. Well, easy-ish.

The line into the university eventually let up, and we were able to find our way into the school proper. The city's university wasn't the biggest thing ever, and I think it was emptier than usual this time of year- May was the end of classes, or something- but some of the folk that we needed to talk to were here. Students, and (as Nick and Thom had said over the phone a few minutes ago), maybe a few professors we could squeeze some info out of.

* * *

I felt kind of shocked at how different the University was in reality than the image I had in my head. The school wasn't big, especially for a city like Zootopia. I've had friends that went to schools with parking garages, restaurants, even a police station built in. But the one we were at had none of that- just a bunch of small, squat buildings surrounded by parking lots. Pretty though- lots of bright colors and greenery.

The dorm room thing wasn't serious- upsetting roommates, making witnesses more nervous than they needed to be with cops in their room- but we did at least go into the dorm building and find seats in an office near the front doors. The R.A. was nice enough to find the students for us.

A mink, Rachel, who had had a seat near the front of the auditorium, was first. She shuffled in, dressed in a sweater and pyjama bottoms. Vicks handled her, and I stood behind him doing my best to seem reassuring. The next kid was going to be mine to talk to, and Vicks would be standing up, grading me.

" So you didn't hear anything besides the pig talkin' ?" asked Vicks, tapping on the notepad in front of him, slightly hunched.

The mink shook her head, paws in her lap. " Nothing," she said, shrugging. " He went from a thing on evolution to shouting and busting his ass on stage, just, kicking everywhere." Vicks opened his mouth, but she cut in. " That was right before a bunch of us went up to the stage, a lot of folk had, like, flyers and signs, told him that he should leave, called him an asshole…"

" Right," said Vicks, who had yet to write anything down, " and did you see what might have made him fall down, that got him kicking everywhere and hollering like that?"

She shook her head. " I couldn't see his actual leg, I just heard a bunch of noise and saw him flop over."

Vicks nodded, glanced down at his notepad. " Okay… I think, actually, that Officer Hopps here had some questions for you, okay? You talking is helping us a lot, okay?"

I wasn't sure if he was lying. At this point I'd be tempted.

I took a deep breath, and took his seat. The mink went from looking level to looking down at me, and I felt every bit of that extra chair-space. A part of me wanted to sit on my knees to reach the notepad better, but I made do with stretching a bit.

" When you said all those folk went up near the stage…" I began, arms pulling me up enough that most of my face was above the edge of the desk, " was everyone in that group a student you recognized? Anyone stand out?" Her head tilted, and she shuffled in her chair a bit. I heard a foot smack against a table-leg.

" I don't think so," she said after a minute. " I mean, I don't know everyone there, but I see all of them around campus. They're all students."

This part, I think, was the one I hated the most. Not getting clear answers, all the maybes. But we couldn't throw away a witness unless we were sure we got everything we could.

" Would any one of them want to mess the pig up, maybe?" I said, " Any clue?" My witness shrugged again, looked up at me, and frowned a little. I realized how hard I was gripping my pen, that I had lifted myself up out of my chair.

The next fifteen minutes were spent with me and Rachel going around in circles. The notepad remained ink-free, and I had to fight to keep myself from sighing in front of her. Vicks kept the door shut for a second, glancing over at me.

" Deep breath," Vicks cautioned, " Alright? We aren't out of witnesses yet, and you never know what we could find."

I unfolded my arms and tried not to kick my legs against the chair. He was right, obviously, but there's only so many dead ends I could handle! Just give it a few more tries, and maybe. We'd catch a clue.

Everyone else ended up telling the same story. I let out a sigh, letting myself sink into the chair.

* * *

The campus was small, but they managed to plant a few bushes around, a couple of flowerbeds, even. More than once I saw contractors driving around in paint bucket-laden carts, touching up some of the more faded buildings with bright reds and yellows.

Vicks and I made our way down a sidewalk, which according to the maps would lead us to the faculty offices. At least, _some_ of them. Vicks would mutter to me whenever we got a break from the gaggles of students crowding us.

" The questions were alright," he said, " But you have to be a little more subtle, you understand? Control those emotions. Don't let it show up on your face so much." He dug for his pack of cigarettes, but let his paws hang loose after another group of students came up near us.

Nick had mentioned a couple of murid research studies on campus. A quick search online pulled up a couple applications to be a research intern for a Dr. Gomez. He wanted to 'explore the psychological makeup of the murid brain', apparently. His office we found easy thanks to a directory, but we never got to step inside. The doctor was arguing with a mouse outside.

" It's not right!" the mouse shouted, " Honestly, Professor? You can't really think this a good time to keep running the study. I got everyone at home complaining that it's invasive, and insensitive, and that it's taking advantage of folk that don't know any better…" The mouse stared up at Gomez, head craned far back. I'd have to call that the first time I saw a mouse yell at a coyote.

" It's a _voluntary_ project," Gomez retorted, his tone pedantic. He shook his head. " And that's looking at it from a negative perspective. Think of the positives for a second," his voice became slightly pleading, and he was about to go on when he noticed me and Vicks standing there.

" Come talk to me later," he said, straightening up and adjusting the collar of his button-up. " And you need to turn in all those assignments! Summer term isn't a time to slack off!"

The mouse scampered off, and Gomez led us into his office. Most of the wall behind his desk was covered in degrees and certifications. I could pick out a few awards for research, and what looked like printouts from some sort of science journal. The coyote was skinny, especially for a male, and sitting this close to him made the eye-redness and bags stand out more.

He took a sip from a coffee cup, letting us settle in to our seats. " Just so you know," he said firmly, eyes darting between us, " I'm not going to talk about my students." He sniffed. " And I'm _didn't_ coerce anyone into anything, despite what some of them might have said."

I saw Vicks staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I sat up straighter and cleared my throat. " If you could explain to us what your project is about, maybe we could get a better understanding," I said, " help keep everyone safe and informed,"

The coyote sniffed again, resting his elbows on his desk. " I got IRB approval to do a study on our murid population," he explained, " in simple terms, to see how their unique situation affected their worldview. Just a few interviews." He grimaced, " But, someone twisted up my words and a rumor got started that there were all these experiments going on, that I was tricking subjects into these awful situations…"

" Why would they think that?" I asked. It'd take a lot to confuse interviews with lab experiments.

Gomez sighed. " I was part of a study done by that speaker the school had, Dr. Cornell- years ago!" He rubbed the back of his head. " And when some students heard a few months ago that he was booked to speak here, they did some digging and found my name." He dug under his desk, pulling out a wastebasket, filled to the brim with wadded-up papers. " All letters from anonymous ' concerned citizens'.

I mulled over his words for a while, letting the professor go on about advocacy groups and things being out-of-proportion. Vicks asked Gomez what his old study was about.

" Cornell wanted to examine their genes," Gomez explained, " His idea was to give them the benefits the rest of society has- full-color vision, for example." He shrugged. " That's not my field, though. I helped to soothe subjects and with the statistical analysis."

" It didn't work though," I noted. Gomez nodded sadly.

" From what he told me," Gomez said, " Color-spectrum genes are carried by the mother, and in order to give their children the benefits of a fuller spectrum, there would have to be a change in those genes." His voice started raising, little by little. " It'd take generations for it to even begin showing up in day-to-day life," he said, excitement tinging his voice, " but imagine it! I- We, would've done something huge, and-"

The coyote went off on his tangent, and I made my notes. Cornell's study focused on female mice, playing with their genes. A good target for someone wanting revenge. Was Panya one of those in the study, maybe? Revenge for all the subjects?

Piece-by-piece. A few clues are better than none, Nick reassured me later. I would end up hearing that more than once.

* * *

 **(A/N: Three reasons I haven't been posting:**

 **1\. I moved.**

 **2\. I accidentally wiped my entire hard drive after partitioning my computer incorrectly.**

 **3\. Midterms.**

 **As penance, this is a longer chapter. Posting will get back to it's normal schedule, I promise.**

 **Marcus is going to the big school to get a proper education. Yes it's ten times harder because it's not sized for him (especially the workload), but he thinks it's worth it compared to what he'd usually go to. The school is cool with it because of equal opportunity and good press.)**


	8. Chapter 8: Keep Pretending

Chapter Eight: Keep Pretending.

 **(A/N: Social media can be a very powerful tool, both for spreading awareness and bringing people together. Sometimes, though, it can bring unwanted attention.)**

* * *

Judy and I stumbled out the back door, Judy trying to hold back from yawning. She got back from her college trip a couple hours before me and Thom had made it back, and had spent that time sitting next to Vicks at his desk, watching him work. It was…. Quieter than usual, with her not sitting next to me. I actually managed to be productive with her gone.

But, we got to go home before midnight! A big positive, getting back on the morning shift. Shame Judy couldn't see that right now.

" And, and you know what he said?" Judy fumed, stomping down the steps and down the sidewalk. " That I 'have to control my emotions better'. Like I wasn't trying! Like I wasn't being patient!"

I was bored being alone, but Judy had gotten some constructive criticism. Which meant I got to calm her down after work. Thankfully, the backstreet was empty, and I didn't have to shush her down. Yet.

" I know," I told her, " I know."

I've tried other things- making jokes, trying to rationalize. I got yelled at for the first one and ignored for the latter. Real fun times.

She balled up her paws, swinging her arms back and forth. " What am I supposed to do, Nick? Turn into some sort of robot right away? Be the perfect Detective when I just started the program? And he wants to lecture me like I'm some little girl, like I don't know how to keep my mouth shut…"

" I know," I murmured. She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest.

We made it out the backstreet, walked down the main road to the gas station. We usually walked slow to talk. Tonight, she might as well have been dragging her feet.

" Jude," I said, as we crossed the intersection, " It's just one lecture. Just remember you got this chance for a reason." I paused, watching some cyclists rush past, " Vicks just wants to make you a great detective, let you put all them skills to use. He's letting you know for a reason…" It was the same speech I'd given before, after the first week of training.

It took her a good few minutes to speak up again.

She shifted her weight between her feet. " I, uh, I at least got a chance to talk about what I thought," she said softly, " that we still got Tabitha on the table as an accomplice, that we want to make nice with the mice-" she giggled a little, voice picking up, " - and get someone to give up Panya. I-" she glanced back at me. " -Mason, he knew Panya, right? Couldn't we ask him?"

" He might lie," I pointed out, " And I know all the important stuff- I got a pretty good glimpse of her when I hung with him." 

Judy nodded, eyes focused on her paws. I'd told her plenty of times already- wheatish-looking fur, high-pitched, liked to ramble, blue eyes. All Mason was gonna do was make up lies about me, anyway.

I walked up to her, put a paw on her shoulder. She smiled a little, sighed. " They told me not to worry, that they got this, that you guys in Gangs got Gomez on lock," she shook her head, " But I don't want to sit on the sidelines." She glanced up at me, brows furrowed. " I'm gonna dig into Tabby more, see if she'll spill the beans." She nodded, and I nodded back. " Maybe," she said thoughtfully, " Those protest students might have an idea…. They got a motive…"

" I think I could find that vixen that was at the speech," I offered. Her smile slowly faded, but I stayed brave- helped to keep walking and avoid eye contact. " I have a good idea who it is." 

" The girl from the nightclub in the ugly dress?" Judy said. " Coincidental, maybe?"

" She's got gang connections, " I said confidently, remembering the vixen's warning at the nightclub, " And I think she has a thing for me." Judy pretended to gag, but I kept going. " All I gotta do is find her, turn on the charm, and she'll give me the scoop. Ain't no other reason she'd be at that lecture, right? I bet you she was part of something."

The crowd started picking up the closer we got to the gas station, cars pulling in and out and families dashing across the entrance. The bus stop wasn't far, just around the corner.

" Where you gonna find that charm, Nick?" Judy said, " Could've fooled me into thinking you've got some." She laughed, and the laughter grew when she got another look at my face. " That poor girl! She'll probably run away in the first five minutes!"

* * *

I adjusted my seat a bit, scooting closer to the table. The restaurant was pretty packed tonight, everyone chatting animatedly or watching the game at the bar. The Loons were still trash, far as I could tell.

" I'm just happy to see you here again," Caroline said, chewing the last of the food she had shoved in her mouth. I could see bits of green poking out the sides of her mouth; it wasn't easy trying to ignore all her loud chewing, either. " It was weird," she said, " thought I had scared you away or something."

I remember having a vixen staring at me every time I came to eat here, trying to look cute while sitting with her girl friends. Of course she wasn't there when I started this plan, but once I started checking in to the restaurant online, she suddenly found time to come eat here. I had waved her over, and she almost ran to sit across from me.

" Nah," I said, picking at my salad, taking small bites once in a while to make it seem like I was still hungry. " I was just busy, and you never gave me your number…"

" I gave you my email!" she said, a smile creeping on her face. " Remember? And all those gifts?" She leaned forward, elbows on the table.

" Oh, sure," I said. When I first got the job, I got a bunch of letters and emails from folk congratulating me, saying it was good for the fox community and how I inspired them, normal stuff. After the Secretary got dusted, though, one girl kept emailing me, though, at least once a day, making all sorts of offers and well-wishes- eventually just went to spam. Then there were the 'Private Number' phone calls and packages at my apartment.

I was sure this was the same girl, and it wasn't no coincidence with her trying to distract me at the nightclub. My money was her being a distraction by the mouse.

She kept going on talking as she ate and I tried to. How nice I looked, how hard my job was, how I must be so lonely. Twenty minutes of that, and then I tried to shift it.

" You know, Caroline," I said, as the waitress refilled our drinks, " I do got a whole lot of stress, and a lot of it is because of that assault in the university." Her ears perked up, and she shifted her weight around. Good. I rubbed my forehead, sighing as hard as I could. " I… I really just wish someone had a clue what really happened there, you know?"

She made doe eyes at me, rubbed my arm. I remembered something Judy had told me last night.

" I, um, I heard how that pig was trashin' mice," I said sadly, " Like mice need even more stuff piled on them, right?" she nodded sadly, still rubbing my arm, " They only live like, five, six years, and they work just as hard as we do, and they get that guy coming in and insulting them…"

" That's why there's all those groups on campus now, Nick," Caroline said, sitting up. " Everyone's trying hard to stop all that prejudice. We got guys passing flyers out, you know, and we're going to have a protest at City Hall…"

The University was going through a phase right now. Some of the university kids were walking out of class, protesting outside on the main roads and going on social media talking about how equality was important. Hashtag this and that, everyone banding together to create #positive #change for #mice. Well, most of them were. We had to stop a few from trying to graffiti buildings or picking fights with classmates.

" That's really something, Carol," I said admiringly. " Making all that positive change." I looked down at my lap, mulling over all the, uh, complex feelings I had about this case, making sure all that tiredness and anxiety bled through. Emulate Judy, I told myself. " I heard so many folk say how you've been leading the charge, right? The first one to say something for all those mice. It's really inspirational. "

She nodded, head lifting and her smile growing wider. " I try to promote equality," she said, " It's so important that we look at similarities instead of differences," she sighed, " so many folk are so wrapped up in stereotypes, though!" She wiped her face, eyes glued to me. " But guys like you, they look past that. You're partnered up with that rabbit, and you managed to get past all her moodiness. You know all those rabbit stereotypes, Nick? How they can die in rain, they can bust their spine super easy, and how they-"

Thanks to many nights spent watching Judy's movie picks, I was able to hide the regret I felt. I just waited for her to saying something about mice.

It would take a while.


	9. Chapter 9: Explain That!

**Chapter 9: Explain That!**

The business is full of vexations. There are times when you know to a certainty the doer of a deed, yet arrest must wait until the evidence is in hand. Sometimes the evidence never comes… It is the law of chance.

\- Murray, _Memoirs of a Great Detective_

* * *

I think Nick talks me into too many things. Friday afternoon on the way home had me and him going back and forth about the case, and of course that meant he had another great idea. A hour-long detour later and Nick was laying on the floor making my home mouse-proof.

" Is that really necessary, Nick?" I crossed my arms, watching Nick wiggle around on the floor, trying to get his draft stopper thing into place. He had the bright idea to go and buy something to block off the bottom of my door- said it was going to be worth it.

" Well," Nick said, slowly pushing the stopper in, " It only cost me a few bucks, and it'll keep any mice out. If me or you find a lead anywhere, would be a good idea to keep any snoopers out, right?" He sneezed into his shirt, dust blowing up into the air around him. " Ugh… Although all this might do the job too. Real good job keeping this place clean, Jude. "

We heard the shuffle of feet outside, doors slamming and folk arguing with family, cars speeding outside. All normal.

" Thank you, Nick, " I said, trying to supress the sarcasm. He grunted, pulled himself off the floor, and stretched. I sighed. " You really gonna go and find that vixen? She could be a dead end."

" I got a good feeling," he said confidently, brushing the dust off his shirt- the same shirt he wore every other day, no matter how many times I told him to get a new outfit- Stubborn! " A few days and she'll be eating out my paws!"

" She'll listen to you talk for five minutes and run away," I said, pointing out the obvious. " She's in college, she's got brains."

" You stay around," he countered, pacing around my apartment, glancing at the photos on my desk. " What's that make you, huh?"

" Someone with bad taste." I muttered.

Nick laughed a little, wrinkling his nose. He coughed, shook his head. He made a big show of rubbing his chest and taking deep breaths. " Damn dust," he muttered, " Ugh… But, uh, Jude, thanks for having bad taste." Nick coughed hard, thumped his chest, and swallowed.

Nope, not going to fall for the cute nice-guy thing. He's not gonna distract me from his plans. " Do you have a plan if she turns out to be dangerous?" I said.

" I got you on speed-dial," he said, grinning. " That'll be enough, won't it?"

We talked for a bit more, sitting on my bed. He'd tell me a little about therapy, about Finn and how annoying he could be as a roommate. He'd drift off a bit if we ever got into his past with Mason, talking more to himself than me- never got farther than vague details, a few months ago this and Billy and Robert that. He brightened up when I brought up Tabby, though.

" Just bring up the stuff from the meeting," he said confidently, " all the togetherness, having something there to anchor you, being proud of being sober..."

" Why would a drunk like her care about that, though? " I rested my head on a paw, tapping my foot on the floor. " All she does is drink and take her kids to… Oh, her kids?"

Nick nodded. " If I know drunk moms," Nick said, chuckling a little, " those kids are her only thing keeping her out of the gutter. You get her all teary-eyed talking about her kids, and I bet you she'll spill anything to keep them close."

Nick shifted his weight around, trying to find a good spot on my bed. He'd keep a good distance from me. I think he was avoiding brushing against me- probably thinking of last time that happened.

" So," I said, putting on my best annoyed tone, " I get to hang out with a drunk old lady, and you get to hang out with a cute college girl."

Nick smiled. " I know, I get the hard jobs. That's why I get paid the big bucks!"

* * *

I remember thinking, when I got into that AA meeting, how everyone in that room must have a horrible past, that they've all been to jail for a while for something like battery, maybe even murder. I thought everyone was going to look lean and mean, all shifty-eyed and strung out from their last binge.

Thinking now, I'm grateful I was mostly wrong. There were a few guys who had done some time, sure, but most of the folk in that room had just let their addiction take control of their life. One girl talked she spent money meant for her baby on food. Another one had woken up on the street after passing out from a trip to the liquor store. They lost control. But they made a choice to clean themselves up. They deserved respect.

Tabby still had her kids, had the nice house. She has a lot more than the folk in the AA meeting ever had. And yet all she did was complain, make assumptions.

That didn't change this time, either. Early morning and she was already drinking.

" Judy, listen, " she mumbled, head leaned back into the couch. " I just, I can't stand being in here 95% of the day." She sighed, eyes focused on the ceiling. " I have things I need to do! I have places to be! I can't sustain myself sitting here doing nothing. The rent isn't going to pay itself."

I leaned back into my seat. The smell wasn't very pleasant- I think she had spilled some of her whisky onto herself, or on the couch. Whenever she'd reach down to take a sip, it'd dribble out her mouth a little, staining her blouse. In all the time I've been in here, I've never seen her put the TV on or read a book. Just sit and drink. Even when I spoke to the neighbors, no one had anything to say about her. She was the shut-in.

" How are you kids handling everything?" I said. " It must be so hard without their Dad around..." Tabby nodded, sighing.

" The kids are having trouble," she said, " You know, they really want to have some closure, they talk about wishing they got to have a family moment before he kicked the bucket." She picked her head up off the couch, eyes widening. " You, you don't have any kids, right? That's, that's..." she wiped her lip of the drool, coughed, "... You'll have to hurry before time's up, Judy. I… My babies are one of the main reasons I haven't gone crazy yet. With all that policing you do, it might help to have something to balance that out..."

She'd do that often, going off track, giving me advice. Last week she brought up men she'd thought I'd like to meet, what I could do to look more attractive.

Got to focus, though. Get her on track.

" Your kids mean a lot, Tabby," I said, sympathetically, " and I want to help to keep them safe, okay?" she nodded, her head sunk back on a couch cushion. " I need you to help me, for them."

She sighed, " I told you!" she whined, " I don't know anything, Judy. Lauren would know more, she grew up in that kind of neighborhood."

Not true, according to Laura. Not a clue about any mice. But…

" Tabitha," I said sternly, " Think about it. That mouse is brave enough to go and get your husband, right? And then go and get a speaker in the middle of a lecture?" Tabby nodded, paws reaching for the glass of whisky. " What's to stop her from coming back and finishing you off, or your kids?"

Tabby shrugged. " I have brave police officers snooping around my house all day," she said.  
" I'll be fine."

I sat up in my seat, put my paws in my lap and squeezed them together. Even drunk she's tight-lipped! And how would this look on a report, weeks without progress?

" And what if no one's here?" I said, voice raising. Tabby picked her head up again, ears perking. " What if they get sick, or someone else gets stabbed and we have to watch them? What if you're all alone?"

She sighed, rubbed her face. " I… I don't know anything about… Panya, Judy! I..." She stopped, rubbed her neck, and looked at me guiltily. " I didn't love Tommy, and I know I'm not crying my eyes out, but I wouldn't want to kill him, never! And how would I know to contact the mouse, anyway? I'm not Nicholas, Judy."

I had to fight from getting off my seat, planting my feet and leaning forward. " Why would Nick know anything, Tabby? "

She leaned forward hurriedly, paws fumbling for the bottle and glass on the coffee table, downing the last dregs in her glass. " He's from that kind of neighborhood, Judy," she said quickly. " Just… that kind of folk that would know how to find scum like that."

That's when she stopped talking, started staring at the coffee table. She knew something, but she didn't want to spill… And she was already drunk! If she drank any more, I'd probably have to deal with an overdose.

I tried getting her attention, and Laura even came in to check on us, but Tabitha just sat there, staring at the bottle or outside the window. Ten minutes I tried to talk to her- nothing. Another ten of me sitting there, rocking on my heels. Eventually, I had to give it up.

A complete waste of time! I could've gone to Luke, I could've just done nothing and this day would've been more productive!

* * *

I did it! I….. No clues given, and she'll most likely be frustrated enough to just throw in the towel.

Judy made a big show of huffing and puffing as she got up, all downcast eyes and crossed arms. She saw me staring at her, straightened up and stuck her nose at me, like she was better than me. Like I care! She's not the one taking care of all these kids, all these bills… What responsibilities did she have, barely out of her twenties…

" Tabby," she squeaked, with that reedy voice of hers, " Anything you can offer, can save lives, can keep everyone safe. Okay?" Judy really was disappointing, I found. I heard about a girl with spunk, and drive, initiative! And here she was begging and pleading like some abandoned child, lole some…. some...

I smacked my lips, felt the last of the whisky go down. Barely felt anything anymore- the liquor must be off. Judy just stared at me, wall-eyed.

I led her to the door, was about to open it when we heard a tapping at the window. Faint, sure, but it didn't let up. Judy glanced at me, narrowed her eyes, and made her way back.

Judy peeked back into my living room, out the front window. I joined her to see the mouse standing in my window sill. Judy glanced back at me, then at the mouse. The mouse stared at her, at me. Shifted awkwardly on his feet and clutched the needle in his paws tightly. But it'd be fine, at long as he didn't…..

….didn't end up running away like he did. Judy ran after him, shouting and weaving through the foot traffic.

* * *

I took the chance to sit back down and finish my whisky. Had to put on a brave face. Oh, God, please.

* * *

She came back ten minutes later out of breath, clutching her chest and coughing. Glaring at me, and I could swear she was smirking at me. She settled down next to me, finished her coughing fit, and let out a long sigh.

" I'm going to call in some folk," she said calmly, " Don't go anywhere."


	10. Chapter 10: You're Going to Help Me

**Chapter Ten** **: You're Going to Help Me, or, Tick-Tock.**

It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to herself: 'He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the world,' she spoke to him in a friendly way. 'Good day, dear Mr Fox, how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting on in these hard times?' The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat from head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would give any answer or not. At last he said: 'Oh, you wretched beard-cleaner, you piebald fool, you hungry mouse-hunter, what can you be thinking of? Have you the cheek to ask how I am getting on? What have you learnt? How many arts do you understand?' 'I understand but one,' replied the cat, modestly. 'What art is that?' asked the fox. 'When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a tree and save myself.' 'Is that all?' said the fox. 'I am master of a hundred arts, and have into the bargain a sackful of cunning. You make me sorry for you…

\- _The Fox and the Cat_ , the Brothers Grimm

* * *

I'd like to think I have a large amount of patience. Hanging around Finn doesn't really build it, sure, but Judy more than makes up for that. Always talking about the new book, or a movie she wants to go see, or arguing with me about my choice in reading… And now it was all just her grousing about how annoying work was, for me to be careful…

I think I was being careful. Carol chatting my ear off might drive me nuts, though. Almost a half hour of walking around and she was still going on about harmful stereotypes and spreading awareness. We'd get a few glances every now and again, depending on how loud she got.

" You know, Nick," she said, paw drifting against my arm, " all these different species, all those unique needs- it's so hard to deal with all of them!" She took a deep drink from her smoothie- same mix as mine. " But we did it, this city did it! Doesn't mean that there aren't any issues, though."

" That's why," I began, " I'm a cop, Carol. Keep all the issues as small as I can, right? Keep everyone safe, no matter what."

" And that's why you're such a big inspiration," she said, moving a little closer to me on the sidewalk. I could see her staring at me out the corner of my eye, smiling. " You wouldn't pick and choose who needs protecting, right?"

I shook my head. " Nah. I see it just good and bad. You got dumb folk, smart ones, a bunch of adjectives on both sides. All I care about is getting the rotten apples."

She nodded, went back to her drink. She wouldn't take her eyes off me unless she was about to run into someone, and if I ever made a noise like I was going to talk, she would perk up and stick her face closer to mine. Eventually, after sitting on a bench, I did find something to talk about.

" So," I said, stretching, " I remember reading all those emails, Carol, getting all those packages with those nice clothes, all those letters…" She nodded excitedly, scooting closer to me. " What makes you do all those, ah, sweet things? Must be _so_ expensive."

I thought she was going to go off on a spiel, but she squared up instead, had her face drawn up all serious. " It's super important to support folk who get stigmatized," she said, "And you being the only fox in that police department, I thought it'd be nice to show you that you have folk that give a damn about you. It'd be nice to see a positive portrayal of foxes for once, you know?"

Made sense. In school, when we had history, then went over stereotypes, how things have changed over the years and how much we've come forward since the old days. I had a kid from another country in my year, and he told me all about these horrible stories he grew up with- huli jing, stealing souls and tricking families out of everything they had. When we took a language class, you'd hear the slang, and more than one kid would get offended by some of it.

I shook my head. I had to get out the past, though. I asked that for a reason.

" But," I said, " You know that I still struggle sometimes, right? That life is still tough sometimes." Her face dropped a little, and she put her paws over mine. " Remember what I was saying about that tough case? I get all sorts of, uh, crap, for not getting anything done."

" Oh," she said, pouting, " Yeah, that big wolf you have as a partner, he's an angry guy. Bullying everyone for information." I tilted my head, and she gave me a small smile. " Don't you remember? I said hi to you when you were going around talking to all those mice. You talked to me for a whole five minutes."

" Oh," I said, " Well, that wolf is probably why I don't remember… Were you out shopping or something that day?"

It was a long shot, but maybe she'd drop something about visiting her shady mouse friend, or that she some suspicious guys somewhere…

" Actually," she said, sipping at her smoothie, " I had to go and help a friend with moving some of his stuff. He had a big fight with his girlfriend, I think, and-" she smacked her lips, her eyes drifting away from me and at the crowd walking by, " -I had to go and pick up all his stuff from her place. She threw his stuff into the street, was yelling about how he was lucky she wasn't going to go Lorena Bobbitt on him..."

Oh, God. Not again.

* * *

Nick drifted off a bit while I was talking. His head fell back against the bench, he slumped a bit, and I think I heard him snore. Wasn't normal snoring, though- he sounded like he had run a mile and was fighting a very phlegmy cold at the same time. Poor Nick! Worked so hard, couldn't even get some time off for real bed rest.

I could tell something was off with him. When he was working, he'd smile a lot, he'd crack jokes with Judy. Not here, though. He didn't smile much with me, his face would be scrunched up. I thought partners would be close, but if he had to act so happy in front of her, instead of looking as drained as he did… He needed someone to talk to, to vent.

That would be the right thing to do, and it'd help him rise above all that stress he's got.

* * *

I turn away for one second, and she starts shaking my shoulder, getting all close.

" Nick, she said worriedly, paws grasping my shoulder, " You're getting beat up at work, you look drained… And, you know, I don't want you like that. If you need help, I'll do what I can."

I nodded, and she squeezed my arm, fighting me a little when I pulled away. " I need you to help me with the mice," I said, " Even just a little bit of info, I could get the break I needed." I thought of James, of Judy with her mice. " One less thing to worry about would be nice."

* * *

Marcus leaned against the doorway, clutching his chest, breathing hard, looking at me like I was complete scum. I walked up to him, glanced into his eyes. They weren't glazed over, or faraway. Had he stopped taking the drugs?

Eventually, he found his breath again, made a big show of pointing at me, shaking his head. He then got the nerve to get in my face and start shoving me. He pushed against my chest hard, and I fell back onto the floor, straight on my behind.

" I- You!" I stammered, " Don't you have any respect? " Now, he gets mad? Not killing two folk, but running a bit? Really?

" You owe me!" he said. " Alright? I had to run through so much nasty shit to get away, and for what?" Marcus' scowl deepened, " Just so the drunk could get snatched up? Is that meant to make up for everything else?"

I got up, with difficulty. I held my tongue, let him go on for a few more minutes. Stupid idea that, ruining school this. He had no respect for his elders, none at all.

He gave up eventually, arms crossed and head held high. " Marcus," I said softly, " You need to look at the big picture. The police will have to divert the rabbit to deal with the drunk, and you would just listen to me and not get so emotional, we can go and get to-"

" Why the hell would I want you to kill my teacher?!" he snapped, "The pig, fine, sure, go crazy, but Gomez didn't have nothing to do with what happened-"

" Gomez was a part of it," I said irritably, " I don't care if he was the janitor, you understand?" Marcus shook his head, and I sighed, " He was able to do something and he didn't, and he's too stupid to go into police custody."

" Because he wants to teach!" Marcus countered, poking me in the chest again, " He wants to work the summer classes, to help me graduate on time, and- and, do you get that he helps me with my papers? That he's the only one who vouches for me and talks to my other professors about my grades? " He paced back and forth, stomping his feet.

Marcus was awfully obsessed with his classes, acting like that psychology degree was going to get him anything. No one had ever listened to mice- why start now, why let him get disappointed?

I took a deep breath, watching Marcus glare at me. " Look," I said, " You need to-"

" Shut the hell up!" he shouted, " Just- Admit it, already! You're scared, you don't want to go through with it. He's been sitting in the hospital all this time and you've done jack-shit! You've got me running around following them for nothing, getting my teachers all suspicious, because you can't follow through! Coward!" He coughed hard, shook his head.

I took a long, deep breath, fought the urge to hit him in the face, no matter how easy that would be right now… He wouldn't get it, no. He was still a baby when that lab was running. But to let him walk away, consequence-free, when I still had to go through all this pain…

I would have to go the simple route. His own fault, for being a coward, for trying to back out.

" You're a murderer, Marcus," I said, watching him flinch. " You think you can get away from that now, that you can really help anyone? It'll bleed through, your past, your patients will notice..." He opened his mouth to argue, " Listen to me!" I snapped, " Murderer is all you'll ever be, especially if I go and tell the police. Even if they can't pin anything, that'll ruin your schooling, won't it? Not like you could pay for another semester."

His paws clenched, his eyes drifted to the floor. " You're going to end up just like me, " I said, " lying to yourself and trying to be something you're not won't do anything but make you depressed."

It was laughable, really, to try and get a four-year degree on such a short life-span. Who was he going to help in a year, in two?

He wasn't looking at me. Quiet, swallowing hard, slumping just a bit.

" This life," I said slowly, " Is all that we have. We don't have time for anyone else, we don't have time to waste money and pretend."

" That isn't true!" he said, voice cracking. " I- I can still do something, I can go out there and do something good instead of sitting here and being miserable like all of you."

He still thought he could back out. That breaks my heart more than anything.

"Well," I said, " Have fun dying right after graduation."


	11. Chapter 11: It'll Be Worth it

**Chapter Eleven: It'll Be Worth It, He Said!**

It was funny. I did something to move the case forward, and I didn't feel anything, didn't feel any sort of joy. Accomplishment, sure, and some satisfaction. But nothing big, and what was there faded away real quick—what was happening now didn't leave much time to jump for joy. Tabby was getting put into a squad car, that was good, but her kids didn't take that sitting down. We'd been busy trying to calm them down for the past ten minutes. The youngest one, just in high school, had started crying, and the older ones had started shouting.

" You need a warrant, right?" said the eldest. Buck, I think. " You guys can't just go into our house and look through—" he glanced over at the crime scene techs heading upstairs. " That—" he went on, started tearing up once he saw Mom in cuffs, dragging her feet on the way to the car. She didn't say anything to any of her kids. Just made a big show of crying and telling us to stop hurting her. That didn't help us calm them down much.

Vicks had come in, along with that therapist Nick had started seeing—a honey badger. Vicks had wanted to question them, which didn't get anywhere, and the therapist had tried to talk to them alone. That left four of us—Me, Vicks, and two beat cops—to deal with packing Tabby away and picking out the clues.

"D'you know where the mouse went?" Vicks said, pacing the hallway. " Any chance there could be a scent trail? Maybe a bit of fabric?"

I shook my head. That mouse was fast, and the size made it hard enough to keep an eye on him with all those folk in the way. I'd lost him in the intersection—what were we supposed to do to catch them, anyway? Make a lucky grab? Fall on them?

Vicks sighed, glanced over at Laura sitting on the stairs. She'd been giving bits and pieces of info—Tabby getting drunk most of the day, talking to herself, about how she wanted to get out of town already—a real altruist.

I should've been relieved, or less stressed, at least. I still felt tense from the chase, like I had something pressing on my chest. No matter how big a breath I took, the muscles felt tight. And there wasn't anything emotionally. Just… calm. Nothing major.

"I—Well." Vicks said, " Any idea of any other leads, Judy?" he glanced at the living room door, shut so the badger could talk to the kids privately. " Did she say something useful? Let drop a name?"

I shook my head, and Vicks sighed again. He frowned, and I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "We got her, at least," he said, mostly to himself, " Maybe… But good job making some sort of progress."

I thought that Nick might've found something, so I offered to get him. Should've just meant a simple phone call and him walking his butt over. Nope.

"Nick," I said, once he picked up the call. " We're at Tabby's house. We got her, but we wanted to compare notes with you. You wanna get over here?"

Nick sniffed, and when he did speak, he sounded distracted. " Sure, Jude. Be there in—Yes, that's her…. No, she probably-"

" Nick?" I said, " You still with her?"

Nick's voice became distant for a bit, and I heard the phone adjust. " Should be done soon. Be right there, okay?"

Nick didn't take a taxi right up to us, though. I saw him climb out of a taxi at the end of the block. He didn't walk straight up to me, taking his sweet time chatting someone up, instead.

A vixen dragged herself out the taxi, sidled up all close to him, listening intently. I thought they were going to give it up and Nick was going to walk over here, but they stood chatting there for a good while. Enough to get me walking over there.

" Nick!" I called, " We need-"

Nick was talking at a good pace with that girl, staring at her and running his mouth a mile a minute. Their talk was deep enough that he didn't even notice me calling or pedestrians bumping into him.

" –not something I really remember fondly," he was saying, " All of those guys had a bunch of dumb ideas, and look where it got them, huh? They either got in jail or, uh, y'know, off doing something stupid." The vixen nodded, smiling, trying to grab at his paws. Nick was too busy wringing them.

" Nick-" I called. Still no answer. The girl glanced at me, smiled, and turned back to him.

" Well, they haven't worked as hard as you," she said, " And it's taken its toll on you, but I guarantee you that it'll pay off, okay?"

"Thank you, Carol," Nick said, voice warm. "I'll talk to you-" He caught me out the corner of his eye, flinched a little. " Um, I'll call you soon. Okay?" He hurriedly stepped back, almost walking into a group of guys walking by, and made his way towards me.

* * *

We had a very heated talk on the walk back.

" But it's so easy to open up to her, right?" Judy snapped, " You've known her for five minutes and you're pouring your heart out."

" Because she's a lead," he said, " I gotta get her to trust me, and I think she knows that kind of life, so that was the best way forward." He waited for me to say something, sighed when I didn't. "Judy," he said, " Listen, it's- it's not you, alright? I just have a hard time getting stuff like this off my chest. Okay? I..." I heard him take a deep breath. " I feel... scared, sometimes, nervous. I feel like you'll see me differently, and I don't want that."

Great, so now he wanted to be all sensitive. How many months have we been going back and forth about this? How often have I had to sit there getting random bits and pieces and no follow-up? Am I supposed to just look past that again, just smile and say it's okay?

" Every week. Nick," I said, " You tell me how hard it can be to talk about it, and I sit there and let you ramble, and—and do you know how it feels when I see you spilling your guts to some random girl? How pissed off that makes me?"

" Listen," he said defensively. " It'll pay off in a bit. Just watch." I waved him off, and I could see him flinch. He kept quiet, though.

We talked to Vicks for twenty minutes, helped take notes. Despite dozens of questions that everyone asked him, and him giving out ideas, he didn't add anything, just gave out more promises. So much for a good lead.

Vicks let us go for now, after we promised to turn in any new info as it came in. Back home then, for now.

I think we got more than a few stares on the walk towards home. Not like I was the one causing it, though.

"Aw, come on, Jude." He pleaded, as we walked out the door. " It's not like I'm going around blabbing to everyone. I had to get her to trust me, okay?" He sighed, following me down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

I wasn't going to answer, wasn't any point in that. He can't open up to me, then he can go without hearing me talk for a bit. I wasted how many months trying to get him to open up, and then that girl walks in and it's so easy? Liar. Liar!

"Judy, please," he said, from behind me, " She's giving me bits and pieces, alright? The uni students are getting all worked up, and I think that might be part of-"

"Write it down so I don't forget it then," I said sharply, " Okay, big talker? Focus on remembering those details, since they're so important."

"Are you really gonna-" he snapped, sighed, and went quiet. I could hear him pacing behind me, stomping a little. Not that it lasted long, because a few seconds later he started hollering again.

" Jude," he said, voice raised. " Judy! Watch it!"

* * *

I felt something hit my side, pull on my shirt. I glanced down to see a mouse hanging off, covered in dirt and panting. Nick was yelling behind me, and the folk trailing behind us started up too. I heard a loud thud behind me, someone rolling around on the ground.

The mouse on me dug his claws in, started crawling up my shirt. I grabbed at him, got a good grip on his shirt. He wiggled, and I could feel him twist around, his teeth digging into my paw. He bit hard enough that the skin broke. I shouted, lost my grip, and the mouse ran up my shirt, fur darkened. I tried to grab at him again, got a handful of sticky, clotted fur, and he bit at my paws again, scratching at me with sharp claws.

My palms burned, and I felt the left one bleeding. I brought them up, squeezed them together, and brushed down my shirt. The mouse shouted, fell off. He hit the concrete, splayed out.

* * *

Marcus stared, mouth agape. I told him he shouldn't have insisted on coming along.

He watched as Ben fell of the rabbit, landed on the concrete and squirmed around, arms flailing. Nathan and Sam were still trying to get a good hit on the fox, trying to dodge flailing arms and kicking feet. It was all a mess, though—more foot traffic that I thought, and Judy didn't seem too upset at seeing her own blood. Still, had to look at the positives

Marcus shook his head as Sam dropped off the fox's leg, onto one of the pedestrians he had nicked accidentally. Sam shook his head clear, balanced himself on their gut, and waited for another chance to jump. Nathan got a grip on his shoulder, tried to reach to his side to grab his needle, and found himself being slammed into a nearby car window, thanks to the fox trying to shake him off. He fell of, dropped out of sight into the street.

" This'll end out good no matter what happens," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, " You'll see."

Marcus winced as Sam fell again, falling headfirst this time. He twitched, head hitting hard enough to bounce back off the concrete, and started screaming. I couldn't tell if that was his blood or not, though, on his face.

Patience. It'll all pay off soon.


	12. Chapter 12: You Need to Understand!

**Chapter Twelve: You Need to Understand!**

 **(A/N: Everyone has something that want to work towards, but don't always have the means or the energy. Getting other people to help you can be great, unless someone is manipulating the other for their own ends. Friendships, intimate relationships, they all break apart when things aren't even.)**

* * *

The fox and Judith did a very good job of knocking off the mice hanging onto their clothes. Nathan—Or, really, Johnathan—had fallen off multiple times, and I think it was him who got smashed into the side of the car, in the bit of plastic between the windows. The others got smashed into the concrete, or against the stairs. Not a very good way to go, but I don't think many in this city would wish them a clean death.

Hm. Sam, Nathan, and Benjamin…. That left how many? Victor was dead, plus these three…

It would be important to keep count. Marcus—who had been fussing and arguing with me to check on them—stood up straighter, trying to shake off the clumps of dirt that we had piled on ourselves. The officers had left, been carted off by paramedics, I think. The rabbit had been bleeding so profusely from all those bites, and that fox had put up quite a fit when he saw her that way. Kicked Ben against the car, even. The ones in the house had taken their sweet time searching the scene, and now, after so many hours, it was empty again.

Almost.

Shaking the dirt and grass off, I stood up and stretched, taking in the cool breezes, the storm clouds sitting overhead. Couldn't take too long with this.

I ambled over to the car, taking note of the dark stains on the concrete. Seems like that fall had been worse that I thought— there was a _very_ large smudge dried on the concrete, and smaller pools all around. Painful, very painful. Marcus didn't take it very well, and he went into a tirade that I did my best to ignore. This part was beyond him, very much so—but he needed to see. This wouldn't work, otherwise.

" Idiot!" he snapped, from behind me. He was making a show of stomping, retching a bit when the smell would hit him. Soft-hearted, still such a child. " Do you have a screw loose, are you just that stupid? Judy is trying to _help_ us! Why would you try and geek her?" He huffed, paused, I think, to let me try and comprehend his odd word choice. " Moron!"

Focus. I remained quiet, taking in deep breaths of the evening air. Such a nice night, cool and breezy. But, couldn't take too long.

Reaching the car, I peeked under, and had to stop myself from laughing too much—they missed one! Squeezing myself under, I found Johnathan splayed out near the back tire, legs almost dipping into a storm drain . Wasn't hard to get a grip on those threadbare clothes of his. A minute of dragging and the old mouse was pulled out, kicked in the side to get him aware again. I ignored Marcus' angry remarks again.

Johnathan gasped from the foot in his stomach, hacking a bit and eyes struggling to stay open. They'd shut every few seconds, like if I had him under a bright light. Not too long, then.

"John," I said softly, prodding him in the gut again. " Was that all you had? Shame." John flinched at me pushing into his gut, tried to stand, and fell back onto his behind thanks to unsteady legs. The fur hid most of the blood, but there was still large parts of his fur clotting together and becoming more disheveled. Dust plus clotted blood was not a good mix.

" I—You coward!" he shouted, leaning against the rubber of the wheel. " You ain't got the guts to come and help out? Think you're funny? You—" he twitched, hard, and gritted his teeth. Letting him talk didn't help anything, technically, but I didn't need Marcus getting too upset. Let John complain.

" Victor," he panted, " Victor would've done this ten times better, and now—" He glared at me, shaking his head. I heard Marcus murmur to himself, turned to see him shift his feet. John glanced at him, tried to stand up again, and managed to get halfway up before falling back again, slamming his head into tire-rubber.

It brought me so much joy to see him like this, it really did. John, in these few years he's been alive, had quite the body count, more than any of us. Whenever we went out to work, he would get so excited, even when conked out on painkillers… It was like him to go after nearby folk, just for fun, in his words. Said it was fun to see them panic. And now, he ends up beaten under some random car..

" Nate," Marcus said, reaching forward to shake John awake, " I—it's Marcus. We can—I—" He took in the head wound, the unfocused eyes. " You need a hospital, man. We have to—" Marcus bit his lip, rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath.

To Marcus, John was someone who would come over every once in a while to bring gifts, tell stories and ask for favors—a bum, a sad mooch. Marcus being so soft-hearted meant that John always had someone to talk to, or borrow from. Did John boast to Marcus, too? Try to rope him into something?

Ah, this wasn't the point. Enough.

"I'll try and stop the bleeding," I said to Marcus, " Go and check for the others," I pointed in the general direction of the stairs. " Maybe they hid, too."

Marcus glanced at me, back at John, who was busy staring at me. He stood still, a half-step taken in the direction I pointed.

" You want them to die?" I snapped. Marcus shook his head, and took off running, checking in the long grass.

It had taken me a very long time to find these three again. It's not like I could've called them, or looked up an address—it all came down to dumb luck, really. John was the easy one, still coming around once every few weeks. Samuel—big lover of toxins, that one—I found strung out, dawdling by one of the old meeting spots. Ben, the idiot, had found _me,_ and begged me for something to do. He missed having direction, apparently, and that wouldn't do with what few months he had left. I understood, didn't I?

Finding them had taken months, in all, and promises of something like the old days, of getting back at those who would try to undermine everything we did. So, I told them—Judith, she's been snooping around, and wants to shake things up. Can't let that happen again, can we? We should get rid of her like the others, but we need to time it right.

And they listened. They bought the line about me not having anything to keep the poison on, confident in their ability to take on a rabbit—the real issue was just the feet, right? They went with it, out of desperation, boredom, or something else, and now they were worm-food. Or about to be.

John had turned from watching Marcus leave, back to my face. I saw anger and pain, nothing new. His head had started flopping back and forth, his eyes rolling. " I…" he murmured, " Panya, I—" He kicked at me, sighing hard and going slack.

* * *

The cops had taken the rest, I knew that—not hard to miss bloody mice in the middle of the sidewalk. But I couldn't keep standing there, watching them like that. Too much anger, too much… I dunno. Something I don't want to know about. Walking away meant fresher air and a chance to shake off more of the dirt.

Taking deep breaths, pacing a ways away from the two of them, I tried to put everything together. Things were getting too deep. I—Well, wasn't the point of what we did to get the folk that were doing things that the cops couldn't prove? Vigilantes, making the city safer. That's what I had thought, at least….. Was I that stupid, to fall for that spiel? We'll get rid of some gangs, Marcus, we'll make life better for so many, get folk that are above the law.

And I took the bait, I fell for the sob story and the end goal. I stood and watched as that rat got torn to bits, how the Secretary got his neck torn-up… The drugs, I took them without even thinking. For safety, I got told. Helps with the pain. I stopped after that first time, but still got offered more. It stops the guilt, stops the fear, I'd get told.

So why was I still here? All that had happened so far was watching folk get beat up or killed. I got food out the deal, but any job could do that. Coming home late, always feeling like someone would remember seeing me and everything would be over. No more school, no more making a better future for myself.

Wasn't it true, though? What was the point? I might not even make it to graduation—didn't get to work, didn't do nothing useful. I… But, if I give up…

* * *

" What did you do to Nate?" he told me, as we walked back to safety, hiding under awnings to get away from the rain. Not getting an answer after a few minutes, he sighed. " Do you even know what you're doing?"

It's interesting. Everyone we walked past, that never saw us—they all looked so tired. A few yawns, rubbed eyes, stumbles over their own feet or someone's leg. It's almost like—

" I… I didn't sign up for all this, okay? I didn't. I…" He took a deep breath, probably started mentally cheering himself on. " You're just a coward, letting everyone else do your dirty work. That's not what she—"

I am learning to block him out. He won't get it, I know that, but he needs to see. Just a few more steps, and it should be over. So close, so close.

* * *

School wasn't much better, really. At least I had a day in-between the cop thing and school to process. Carol talking on the car ride over helped too.

" Watch!" she fumed, tapping her steering wheel, " He'll get all arrogant, start making jokes, won't even let you talk…" she glanced at me, braced in the passenger seat. " You need a voice too, Mark. That's not fair." She sniffed, " Scholarship or not, you earned your way in, you get to talk."

" It's not that bad," I said, voice straining. " I get good grades on the essays, you know, he doesn't call me out."

She frowned, shook her head. She went into a rant about the way he would talk to us, all arrogant. I guess she was right.

She was chatty, and very… involved. Ever since day one of classes she'd been looking out for me, offering me rides to class, back home. Helping me write my papers. Arguing with faculty for what she thought was bullying against me. Today's class wouldn't be that different.

Gomez paced around the front of the room, waiting for the rest of the class to pile in. Still a few minutes until class started.

" Professor," Carol said, tapping her paws against her notebook, " Are we going to talk about the stuff going on around campus?" She straightened up more. " Because that's—that's social psychology, right? Cultural norms, memes?" I saw Brian shake his head, and a few others roll their eyes.

I don't think having a Political Science major in our Psych class was a good idea. Everything someone brought up, she would argue against. Bring up the cops getting attacked, she'd tell us to look at both perspectives, that something pushed them to do that. She liked to pick fights, start arguments about ethics and culture.

Gomez stopped pacing, rubbed his chin. " What would we talk about?" he said slowly. " I don't think—"

" Well," she said excitedly, " The whole thing about picking a new mascot for the school, the debate everyone is pushing for, um, and—" she looked around the room, settling on me after a few seconds, "—I'm sure Mark has something to say! When does he ever get to talk?"

A few of the students looked for me, seemed surprised when they did. All I did was turn in papers, that's true. Not like I could talk loud enough to matter. Not in here.

Gomez chose that moment to start class, but Carol didn't stop interrupting. She fought with him over his definition of a crowd mentality, saying that with all the different cultures we had it wouldn't be possible. He did his best to keep going, but she got more and more upset the more he avoided her staring.

" I don't think," she said heatedly, right before class was over, " that you take every student seriously. You don't let Marcus talk, and you always pick a few students to answer questions, you ignore me—"

Gomez tapped on the whiteboard, at the third bullet on the presentation. " Can anyone explain who Genovese was and why she was important?"

Ignoring her turned out to be a bad idea.


	13. Chapter 13: A Clearer Picture

**Chapter Thirteen: A Clearer Picture.**

 **(A/N: Kali, in some parts of the world, is a Hindu goddess worshipped (in part) as the Great Mother, full of energy and drive. There are legends that she was worshipped by a band of Indian highwaymen known as Thuggees- they liked to murder people in her name. But that's ancient rumor. What's fact is that some worshippers will offer her animal sacrifices during her _puja-_ which is like a holiday. That's very rare nowadays, mostly it's just fireworks and food offerings.**

 **Also, Nick isn't doing so hot.)**

* * *

Doc chuckled a little as I sifted through his candy bowl, trying to find the good flavor of lollipop—the green ones were too bitter. He shifted around in his chair, tapping his pen slowly against the notepad on his lap. He would stretch occasionally, or look towards the door.

After a few minutes of me silently eating my lollipop, he cleared his throat. I pretended to be enjoying the lollipop too much to notice, crinkling up the wrapper between my paws.

" So," he said conversationally, " do you want to tell me how the progress with the token idea is going?" he waited, and waited, as I sat there studying the name on the wrapper. Apparently this one was watermelon. Kind of a weird—

" Nick," he said, " I'm here to help you. If I don't know what happened I can't help." He scooted around in his chair, still tapping his pen. He kept waiting, until I bit through the lollipop and threw away the stick.

"So, uh," I said, " I didn't… uh, tell her about the token yet. I had it in my pocket, but it didn't, erm…" I shifted around in my seat, trying not to stare back at him—he always looked so intense! " I didn't think it was a good idea to show it off then."

" Why not?" he said softly.

" She was all focused on the case," I said, " But, that makes sense—I told her it was for the case, that it could help her…" I sighed, rubbed the back of my neck, " So that was a missed opportunity, yeah."

" Sounds frustrating," he said.

" Yup," I murmured, sighing. " It was a pain to find that meeting spot, you know?" I paused, felt that wave of emotion like usual, " And, I had to find one that didn't have any of Mom's or Greg's old friends in it— _that_ was a real pain in the ass, Doc. I had to deal with all the smoke in the morning meeting, everyone puffing away on those cheap-ass cigarettes, going on and on about how they were _so happy_ to be there—"

I complained for a good ten minutes, again, and he went with it as always, nodding or throwing a handful of words in whenever I stopped to breathe. Just like last week, we worked on an amended plan. This would be the third time.

Ten minutes left, Doc started checking up on other things. Was the breathing still an issue? Was I going to see a doctor? Yes Doc, yes Doc. Am I documenting the nightmares? Yes Doc. We did the exercises again, he asked me if I wanted to get a prescription. Same thing we always did.

That was before the mouse ambush. The session after that was a little bit different.

* * *

I went through his candy bowl, spent a minute reading the wrapper. Doc was writing on his notepad, breathing out hard. I spoke first.

" I don't remember what happened," I said, " At all." Doc clicked his pen a few times, glanced up at me, forcing a small smile.

" What's the first thing you remember afterwards?" he said.

" A nurse checking on the bites," I told him, " Judy going on and on about how she was sorry, how she was okay and that I didn't need to worry."

Doc nodded. " You know why?"

I sighed, rubbed my neck. " I got mad, didn't I? I kicked one of those mice into a car?" I felt like I would've remembered that. " He… Well, if I did that, I don't think it was on purpose." I paused, watching Doc scribble on his notepad. " And he was trying to kill me! Was I going to be super-careful when I had four of them biting my neck?"

Doc was still scribbling, not looking at me. Was this going to Chief, later? Was I getting written up?

" You're on my side," I said, " Right? You wouldn't…" Doc picked his head up, eyes going all wide. He placed his paws up and out, pleading.

" Of course I am," he said, still speaking softly, " I just need a clear picture."

" I don't remember." I said, arms crossing. " Okay? I don't remember."

* * *

The memories wouldn't stop coming. I guess it was appropriate, now that they were all gone.

John scratched his nose, glaring at me. " Real good job," he said sarcastically, "Thanks for all that help. Really."

I ignored him, turning back to the wall and feeling for the crack. We _could_ have gone out through the mail slot, but no telling who could be outside. The back window would have to do.

John spit, and I swore I felt it hit my back. " I can taste all that crap on his fur still," he whined, " Ugh! Don't they know how to-"

I found the seam, pushed it back up a small bit, and shoved myself under. John was, thankfully, blocked out for a while, until I found myself standing in the Harrison's backyard. I still had to put up with his whining for the whole walk back.

* * *

I found Victor leaning against the wall, picking at his teeth with a claw. He nodded at me as I walked in, straightening himself up and ambling over to me. Big as he was, he loomed over me, and the smile on his face was wide.

" How'd it go?" he said, rubbing his paws together. " Easy-peasy?"

John made a big show of sighing and shaking his head. " No! He kept on shouting and swinging around. I could hardly get a good grip on him, _and_ he almost crushed me on the way down!"

Victor nodded, back to picking at his teeth. " Still. You got a bear. Not something we did in a while."

I nodded, and Victor turned his head to the rooms behind him. " You two coming with us to the meeting? Shiny's got some more of the salt for us."

John couldn't hide his surprise. " Ben and Wendy aren't enough?"

Victor shook his head. " Ben is in the Rainforest, and Wendy still hasn't come back. She might be gone." He sighed, " So… One of you really should come. You know how she'll get otherwise."

So we agreed. She needed the support, anyway—I don't think she would've made it alone.

* * *

She started crying, of course (again!), and didn't stop even when we went back outside. More than a few stares came our way.

Panya choked back sobs while holding her head. " Kali," she cried, " please—Om, Kali, Om Krim Kali. Om Krim Kali-"

She had never taken a death- even a supposed one- easy. She would always break down, make a big scene of wailing. It also meant prayers and days of moping. No good.

Victor placed a paw on her shoulder, guiding her along while crooning softly in her ear. I couldn't hear a word, but Panya would nod, reach out to grasp his shoulder or neck. John wrinkled his nose, turned his gaze away when they moved closer together.

" Not right," I heard him mumble. " Not right."

* * *

Meet the muskrat at the dead-end, as always. Be quick, keep it simple. Supposedly. First of all, there wasn't a muskrat waiting for us.

Victor craned his head up, smiling wide enough to show teeth. The fox shifted on his feet, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, paws deep in pockets, and ears flicking. Panya cleared her throat, trying to stand up on the tips of her toes.

" Young man!" she called, cheerful, " Hello! Is Shiny around? Or is it still Apple?" she chuckled, and the fox turned his gaze from the passing cars to her.

" Shani," he said, " isn't coming. I got your stuff, though." He dug into the bag, clutched a handful of vials. "How's Harry doing?"

" Sick," Victor said. The fox nodded, eyes drifting back to the street.

" Real shame," the fox murmured, " I put money away for him, if you want to help out, ask Reggie." Panya nodded, reaching upwards, grasping at the vials. The fox stooped down, let one drop into her paws.

We took the rest from him, laughing a little as he flinched from the sharp claws brushing his arm. Panya grasped his arm, squeezing it. " Names, fox."

There was a Richard Géarr, a Sandra Lee, a Robert Gaines. Addresses, descriptors. To be dealt with ASAP, and a bigger payday the sooner we did it. For some of us, that was enough, but I'd like to think folk like me and Panya did it for the greater good. Take the Harrison boy— a good warning for the boss of the Triple Nines. Would keep that part of town quieter for a while as daddy bear grieved. And tonight would be just as productive!

* * *

Panya stuck her tongue out, head raised high and arms out. " Mother Kali," she said lovingly, " welcome, mother, welcome…" she bowed, head low, and stepped backwards, " Forgive the lack of offering, mother, forgive… Om, Kali. Om Klim Kalika-"

John and Ben stood a few feet away, watching with some amusement. She always did this before any hit, saying that it was proper etiquette, that it kept us safe. She needed to make sure we had the proper blessings, she told us. I wasn't so sure, but John would always thank her after every song and dance.

She eventually finished, taking a deep breath and coming out of her last bow. We all murmured thanks, and she smiled widely.

" No more death," she said confidently, " I'm sure we won't lose anyone tonight." She grinned, gripping her side-slung needle tightly. Her eyes were far away, lost in thought. " An offering, an offering…"

Her idea of an offering to Kali was… off-putting. I never saw how blood was an appropriate gift.

* * *

" Luke?" I heard, " You okay? "

I shook my head, focusing back on the rabbit in front of me. " I'm sorry," I mumbled. " Getting old. Just lost in thought, Judy."

Judy shifted from foot to foot, absentmindedly fussing with the bandage wrapped around her paw. She watched me with such concern! Like I actually mattered. " What else can I do?" she said, worried, " What can I help fix? "

I pushed the memories back, for now. Peace. Om.

" You can, eh, help," I said, pacing again down the hallway, " by explaining to me what Marcus is trying to achieve…"


	14. Chapter 14: You're Important to Me

**Chapter 14: You're Important to Me**

 **(A/N: There are very bad and better ways to get a point across. But, people can be stubborn and think their way is the best)**

Judy would mess with her bandages while we spoke. I saw her flinch more than once from a too-close press or scrape. She leaned against the wall of the hallway as we spoke, glancing around every time someone climbed their way upstairs or slammed a door.

"Luke," she said in that soft voice of hers, " Marcus is trying to do what he thinks is best, it's his passion." She watched me, eyes half-closed. She had yawned more than once since I had seen her. And such dirty clothes!

" But," I fumed, " he doesn't listen to anyone! He just—thinks that he's always in the right, that he can do anything, and that everyone else is wrong and—"

Judy said something, but I didn't catch it. She didn't repeat herself, so I kept going. " Really, he's—he's so stubborn! What am I supposed to do with that, by myself? I'm not his dad, am I? Is it my job to be the other parent, Judy?"

She yawned, again, mumbled what I think was an answer. " You're important to him," I managed to catch, " But, you know, what I really wanted to ask—"

Rude, trying to steer away the conversation! " Listen, Judy," I said, serious, " What am I supposed to do, huh?"

She glanced away from me, picked at her bandage. I tried to pick that brain of hers for a while longer, but then her fox friend came over and she completely stopped paying attention to me. So, I went home. Unfortunately, that meant Marcus.

* * *

The complaining started as soon as I shut the door. I had barely said goodbye to Judy when he started going at it.

" You're nuts," he told me, all haughty and puffed-up. " A real psycho, a hypocrite, a—"

" You need to understand," I told him. Was it really that hard? " Those are the kind of folk you, Mr. Psychologist, are going to help. If—"

"No!" Marcus stomped up to me, his face all close and personal. " You—You threatened me, you threatened mom, you make things up, and—and I could just go out there right now and talk to Judy, okay? I—"

Oh, here we go. I'm the liar, I'm hallucinating. Yeah, yeah. I told him the truth! Don't trust John because he ran with Panya, and I know because I was one of her boys. I told him, real simple— don't you want to stop people like John, like the muskrat? What if John hurt your mother?

I do this for Irene, and Marcus did it for his mom. What was wrong with that?

Let him yell, he'll get tired eventually.

* * *

From what I remember, it was a nice night out—a light breeze, lots of nice smells coming from the nearby park, and not too much foot traffic. Good for us.

John ambled along the sidewalk, tapping his needle against the sidewalk in time with his steps. He hummed to himself, head tilted slightly.

Panya walked behind us, huddled up with Victor, whispering. I caught John glancing back at them more than once, face always twisting up. If Panya wasn't as gone as she was, I think she would've noticed by now.

" Luke," he called, " I got a joke. You still like jokes?" He scraped the edge of his needle into a crack in the sidewalk, pulling out dirt.

" What do you got?" I asked, " The dad glasses joke again?" I sighed, and John turned around, frowning.

" That's a good joke!" he protested, " A real good pun, right? You want me to be original all the time?"

I felt someone brush past me, tried not to flinch from the feeling of sharp claws brushing against my waist. Victor loped past me, eyes on the houses we passed. "Are you two counting?" he asked, " I think we passed it by now,"

Panya scrambled up to meet me, her needle shoved through the back of her shirt, leaving a good portion of it hanging off her. The edge of the needle was hanging in the air, jiggling with every step. She was counting on her paws, eyes glued to the addresses.

" Luke," she said, without turning her eyes away from the doors, " Did... Did you think we missed it?" she scratched the side of her face, long claws brushing through messy, twisted fur. " She sighed, counted off her fingers. " The right street, but..." Her eyes darted back and forth, her frown deepening. "Forty-four… Thirty-eight…"

Next mark lived on St. Nick Avenue, right near the school. An ocelot, I think, some sort of cat. Or was it a puma?

John slowed down, letting Victor take the lead, and fell in step between me and Panya. " Sarah," he said softly, " Did the fox say Avenue or Terrace? There's Saint Nick Terrace on the street over- maybe we got it mixed up?"

We kept walking past the houses, marking off addresses and keeping away from cracks in the concrete, or the piles of trash laying around—always so many trash bags piled around!

One of the apartment doors opened, and a couple stumbled their way out onto the landing, almost falling off the step and onto the sidewalk. I heard a whistle, and the door shut again, the couple stumbling off the same way we were.

Eventually, we made it to a street crossing, under a construction awning, and could see a large brick building ahead of us- the Sutton Education Complex, if I remembered right. But then-

Victor jogged back over to us, eyes narrowed. " Those are apartments on the next block! We _did_ pass it, idiots!" he stomped his foot, growling. " A townhome! Is that so hard to understand?" he took a deep breath, crossing his arms, " Do you not know what a townhome is? It's not that hard!"

John sighed, leaning against one of the awning's struts. " It's Terrace, Vic. I bet you anything."

Panya finished pulling herself up, leaning against the glass of the window once she got good footing. She was still panting when I finished climbing up.

* * *

Victor was still shouting at John, nothing new there.

"Edgecombe Avenue is _not_ Saint Nick!" he fumed, " They're different streets! How do you mix them up?"

He balanced on the stair railing, trying not to look down at the long drop down to the—the basement? Or was that doorway another house? He tensed, jumped, feet scrabbling against the stone of the windowsill. He threw one leg onto the lip of the window, rolled onto it. John hopped up next, digging his claws into the lip and pushing off the stone with his feet.

Panya rubbed her face slowly, taking deep breaths. She caught me watching her, smiled softly, and turned towards the window. Not that we could see inside- they had the blinds shut. I reached out, touching the metal bars going up and over the window. I never understood why they did that.

John huffed, paws on knees. " 34 Edgecombe," he wheezed, " I—Oh, well—" Victor brushed past him, reaching through the window-bars and feeling at the edge of the window-sill for a crack.

Uncle got all bright-eyed, arms wide, voice warm. " Before it all changed, when it got all twisted, Mark—There was a belonging, okay? You felt warm, and she cared so much…" he rubbed his neck, a small smile growing on his face. " It was good! We did a good thing, cleaning up the messed-up parts of town…"

The cat had fallen so awkwardly, jammed against the hallway so that his head was pressed up against the wall, his feet pushed up against the wall—like a big U. His fault for flailing around.

Or—I don't think all that grit and dirt on John's needle would agree well with anyone. I guess I'd scream too.

Victor kicked the cat's paw, watching for any sign of a twitch. He glanced up at Panya, moving up the ocelot's chest towards the neck. " Jeez," he groused, " I told you two to shut up! Do you not get that—"

John clambered over from the other side of the cat, spitting fur out of his mouth. " Well, he's dead, right?" John stomped his foot down onto the cat's stomach, watching. After a few seconds, he gave up, satisfied. " Not that you helped! Me and Luke jumped, you just sat there all cozy." John coughed hard, spitting out more fur.

Disappointing! I thought he was going to put up some kind of a fight, especially with all that muscle on him. Not even a swat, or an attempt to knock us off. Just scream, scream, scream.

Panya jumped down, wiping her face free of blood. " I—" she shook her head, glanced at Victor. " That's not him, I think. Baby-face, too much body fat…" Victor ran up to the cat's head, pushing it around, glancing at the teeth and poking at his face. With the way the cat's neck had tilted on hitting the wall, Victor had to tilt his head.

So. It eventually ended up being that we had the wrong house, that our mark was in Sugar Hill—way farther up. I—I think he was one of our marks, though, so it ended up okay. Panya got her gift for Kali, at least.

* * *

Marcus was in my face, again! " You—" he poked me in the chest, " Didn't you tell me you guys took drugs for safety or something? That it was done every single time?"

Oh.

It took me a second to remember, honestly. But I explained it to him, again.

" Oh, no," I said, " Panya said we shouldn't get hooked on it, like the muskrat's crew did- too many problems. So, you know. We—stop making that face!—We went in clean. Those drugs we took before, I, uh, found them." Well, they were a surplus from the muskrat that I borrowed. So.

Marcus tensed up, and I had to fight the urge to back up. I had to explain!

" You made me take drugs you just found somewhere?!" he snapped, " You—do you know what gets put into those capsules nowadays, and you just go ahead and—"

I reached out, gripped his shoulders. " For safety!" I pleaded, " Do you think I wanted to see you get hurt, bleed out? I had to make sure you were okay—do you get how guilty I feel about that rat hurting you?"

Marcus shrugged me off, backing away and shaking his head. " That rat you messed up didn't touch me."

" He almost ripped you open!" I protested, " You were bleeding so much, so angry…"

Marcus backed away, again. " No." he said firmly. " We made it to the hospital, you made a big speech about cutting out corruption—remember?—and you found that rat hiding in the corner and ripped him up." He paused, eyeing me like I was some feral nut, paws clenched. " You—the rabbit—" he grimaced.

He's remembering things wrong! Not getting the point, at all. Disappointing, but fixable? Maybe?

* * *

" Hi Nick," she mumbled, " How's your lead going?" I heard the edge in her voice, but I could tell she was tired—again. Just let her vent, and hopefully she won't notice the smell.

Judy pushed open her door, stepping over the door stopper. I walked in after her, and I couldn't help but notice her scrunching her face up. I felt so welcome.

" You smell like vodka," she said, wrinkling her nose. " Ugh. What did you do?"

Oh.

" I'll tell you in a second," I said, " But, uh, I—I got something I want to show you, stuff I want to talk about." She shut the door, shifted on her feet. I felt around my pocket for the coin.

It wouldn't be cheesy, would it? It wouldn't be cringey just to start with this, would it? Why beat around the bush?

Judy walked around me, went to sit on her bed. She sighed. " Okay." She said, " Go ahead, and… Come sit next to me, please."

I did, and she took a deep breath, playing with—jeez, was that the same bandage?

" Okay," she said, " so, you get why I got upset, right?" I nodded, and she furrowed her brow. " Months trying to get you to open up, right?" she said, " And then I see you saying all those things I never heard of to that girl—It's not fair, okay?" She glanced at me, nodded to herself.

" I know," I said, trying to not breathe in the fumes from my shirt. " I know. I'm sorry, it's just—she wouldn't shut up, and I kept thinking that it might get her to stop talking and trust me more." She nodded, looked away from me. " And, I know—sitting here every day, trying to get me to talk and me rambling—that's not fair. But—" I fished the coin out my pocket, cringed when it almost fell out my grip.

She perked up, thankfully, sitting up a little more and actually opening her eyes fully. Good! Great!

" So, my mom's best friend, right?" I said, " Greg, a really cool guy. But he got a real bad drinking problem after he lost his job, right?" I didn't think she would stare like that, but it was working. Just had to keep cool, say it like I practiced.

I cleared my throat, and Judy shifted around, paws pressed on the bed. " So, me and mom, we saw him get all torn up with the drinking—he even got arrested once for drunk and disorderly, right? So, uh…." I sighed, " Remember, I took you to that AA meeting, and how it was kind of random and didn't really help you?" I didn't really like her staring like that. But she was listening.

" That," I said, " Was the same spot where me and mom went to meetings with him. Different day and time, but same place, same routine. This token, right, was the last one he got before he passed away. Ten years sober."

Judy nodded, lips pursed. " And," I said, " you know, I… I was all proud when he got it, but I had to build up to that, and—" God, I'm rambling.

Another deep breath. In. Out. Okay.

" He was a big part of my life." I said, firmly. " A real big part. Helped me with a lot, helped my mom through a lot of tough times." I turned the coin around, letting her read the lettering. " And, you know, you helped me through a lot too, gave me a second chance, so…" I held the token out to her. " I…. want you to have this. As a promise that I will do better. Okay?"

There! I made it to the end. Something to rub into Doc's face tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15: Giving Up

**Chapter Fourteen-point-five: Giving Up**

So close. Vindication, retribution, and peace, all in one neat little package. But Marcus, he still tries his best. Stubborn, thinking that he could say anything to change my mind.

He stood in the doorway, sniffling. His voice cane out strained, pained. He'd been telling me to just talk to someone, that I don't have to go and keep doing this. Don't forget that you have family that cares about you, Uncle. As if I was really going to take him seriously. Now, at the end, is when he wants to try a change of heart?

I pointed at him, " You had a chance to do something," I said, " to call the cops, to fix my head... Isn't that your major? I- Shut up for a second!- I tell lots of folk, you know, how smart you are, how you're going to change lives, and now you go and prove me wrong." I shook my head, and Marcus took a deep, shaky breath.

I couldn't help but be disappointed in him. How long was it? Six months or so, he'd been in that school, and nothing to show for it. No fire, no wisdom. No big revelation to make me change my mind.

So, if my own family couldn't change my mind, or stop me, then doesn't that mean that I'm doing the right thing? The ones that understand me the most...

" Listen," he whined, " You're... you need a hospital, you need medicine, okay? It's- you're not in a good state-"

It's all complaints, and opinions. I expected too much from him, I think. Put him on this pedestal. Oh well.

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: Stopping Things From Getting Worse**

Carol had a lot to say when we met up. Her big thing was this: Gomez was a big pain in her behind, inconsiderate to both her and a mouse named Marcus. 'Some teacher', she fumed, 'treating students like that- and at a time where we should be closer!' She had a plan, apparently, it fix that, raise awareness to combat the ideas the boar had planted.

One good tidbit- she recorded his speech on her phone. But, her phone was about to die, so it'd have to wait. Of course. I thought Judy would want to hear about it. Might cheer her up, would be a good thing to pair with the coin.

* * *

Sitting with him as long as I did, I noticed more and more how tired he looked. He yawned every few minutes, kept swaying. Another thing to talk about.

He pulled at my doorknob, eyeing the deadbolt. He had complained that it wasn't fitting right, that it was too loose. Safety, he told me. Can't have a delicate lady like you getting harassed, he teased. He kicked at the draft-stopper, still stuck under the door.

" Nick," I called, " We still got to talk. You aren't out of the woods yet."

" Hmm," he mumbled, eyeing the stopper. Kneeling down, he pulled on it. " I'm listening, Jude. Promise." He thumbed the stopper's edges, sniffing.

" Thank you for the token," I said, cradling it in my paws, " but that doesn't change you being quiet for a week." I paused, watching him nod. " So what have you been up to? And how come you smell?"

" Nice and subtle questioning there, Detective." he said, head now on the floor, " Well, I was working, believe it or not. With your biggest fan."

Biggest fan? " So you worked alone?" I teased. " Must've been fun." Nick sat up, shook his head. So he didn't take any time off? After we got Tabby, I would've thought he'd jump at a chance for a break, take the time to relax. How much stress has he been building up?

" See," he said, " I got to do some more community outreach."

* * *

After my last session with Doc, right after getting jumped by those mice, Captain pulled me aside and told me I wasn't going to work on the Panya case directly anymore. Too much stress, he told me, might do me better to make some inroads with the kids- the professional term for it was 'community liaison'. Thom was there already, apparently, and it would be his job to 'keep things simple'.

It beat getting put in front of a investigative board, so I said sure. All it really meant was having the social media guys put out a post saying we were doing an event- Coffee With a Cop, was the name for these things. So, off I went to James' neighborhood, all dressed up in my freshest uniform with all the bells and whistles. To talk to all the young guys that were forced to go by their moms.

Me and Jude had been there not too long ago, making all those promises with jobs and renting. Social workers this, food stamps that- same thing a cop had told me as a kid, when they gentrified my part of town. It took a couple years for the city to finish though- I can swear that half of the stores' paint hasn't dried yet.

I didn't like what they did, at all. Nice stores and pretty paint, real fancy, but you still got broke families with clothes all torn up and faded walking around. Big clash, folk getting mad because the poor folk don't belong.

But, that's my place. Out here... Well, I don't know. Rough neighborhood is one thing, but kids that had been in gangs, even in tiny ones? Would there be a smooth transition? Or would we have more of that John boy, sitting in juvenile?

Walking down the sidewalk, I nodded at the kids that walked by, got a couple waves. A few folk with clipboards walked by a couple times, glancing around and trying to fix an address. I heard one complain about the smell, making a big show of covering their face. A good sign, then.

The local restaurant- Chappie's? Chippy?- was the advertised spot. A sandwich, a smoothie, and the one booth with cushioning was my setup. Thom, my boss for the day, glared at me from the big booths on the other side of the restaurant. Lots of nervous glances his way.

Thom, being my superior, felt the need walk over and lecture me. Fix your gigline, don't get crumbs on your uniform, and can't you sit up straighter? Can you stop yawning? Do you floss at all? This was in front of a half-full diner, too.

James popping up was a blessing.

He slid into the booth, testing out the cushions and kicking his feet against the bench.

" Hey," he mumbled, " You ain't been back in a while, Mr. Wilde. How you been?" He gave a small nod to Thom, who made an attempt at a smile and loped back over to his booth.

" Busy, James," I said, " But it's nice to see you, man. Real nice."

James nodded, tapping his paws on the table before pulling out his phone. Apparently, mom had given him some questions to ask me. You guys got jobs? How's the pay? Insurance?

" She's real concerned about the insurance," he muttered, " I don't got a clue what half these words are, dude. The hell is a HMO?"

I think we talked about that for twenty minutes, random things for ten, and then five minutes of my actual job. So nothing different than usual.

I did learn something new at the end, though: a lot of the kids here liked tabletop games. Apparently it was a big thing at the rec center.

" So, I roll a Child of Gaia Ahroun, right? Bulky." said my third kid that day. " Nick rolls a Ragabash Glass Walker, and he keeps arguing that he has all these guns and cars..."

The whole time we were there, Thom would come to check on me, ask the kid if everything was okay. Someone wasn't very busy, then.

Thom let the door slam behind him, loping his way down the block, sniffing hard at the smell of paint fumes. Some new companies had moved in, I think- they had gutted some of the old stores here and started painting. It was odd, seeing bright white, clean paint next to graffitied shutters.

He waited until the last groups of boys had gone by, idling at the corner until they were far enough.

" Nick," he grumbled, " You really let those boys talk like that?" He sighed, " We want them to get jobs, right?

He talked like he was some grumpy old man, but I think I was older than him.

" Listen," he said, " You can't be gimping them like that, okay? And- and, you should really know better, Nick. Okay? They've got some sort of education, they could go somewhere and do something, but we have to help them." He peered down at me, frown deep. " And- Look at you! You're not even reacting, Nick! This is your block, dude!"

Poor Ashleigh. Does he do this at home?

" You know," he said, still sticking to that corner, " Are you doing alright after the mouse thing? You don't need a break, do you?"

I waited for him to keep talking, let the silence stretch for a bit. I think he frowned even more. Jeez, how was he married being so miserable?

" No." I said.

He shook his head. " I heard what you did," he said, " and you're honestly lucky that you aren't suspended right now for beating on suspects, Nick."

I tried to defend myself, but the wolf was in his own head. He talked all the way back to his car about how I might need to get professional help, that I was dragging down the city's reputation. All in front of passing civilians.

* * *

Nick paused, cocking his head. "Hmph." He leaned down, sniffed hard. " So, yeah. Been productive, did my good deed." He stood up, stretched while trying to hold back a yawn.

" Nick!" I protested, " You can't—you went to your Captain about him, right? You aren't letting him walk all over you?"

" Oh," he said, " Yeah, I, uh, that wouldn't really work out right now." He glanced at me, grimaced. " Yeah, I'm… in hot water."

" Why?" I said, louder than I meant. Nick pulled out his phone, thumbed the screen for a bit. " Nick." I said, " I need an—"

" 'This letter'," he began, eyes on his phone. " 'Is to bring attention to a potential risk. While Officer Wilde does an adequate job a majority of the time, there has recently been signs that his effectiveness has been diminishing. Officer Wilde has shown a disregard for the wellbeing of the civilians under his care, more specifically— hold on, I'm almost done—"

" He can't do that!" I fumed, jumping off the bed. " Is he really that stupid to think that he can go around—"

" It's an email," Nick said softly, " He sent an email to Captain, and forwarded it to me and a couple other guys in the department."

What?! What—That couldn't be something serious, right? Who would ever take that seriously?

"I'll talk to your Captain!" I said, " I supervised you when you started, and I've been with you a whole lot this year…. Thom's word can't match up against—"

" He says you're too biased," Nick countered, " that my mental health is a fact, which means you or anyone else's opinion doesn't matter."

" BUT IT'S HIS OPINION!" I spat. " WHAT IN—"

Nick had drug himself up, placed himself in my way. " It's under review!" he protested, " Nothing's in stone, okay? Just one guy that has a bone to pick—"

Not a chance that I was going to let this sit! Nope! I could call someone, raise hell. Damn wolf, opinionated, stuck-up—

" Jude," he said, voice worried, " Please, don't make a big scene, okay? It'll just make things worse for the both of us."

And now he's lost his spine. No guts, no fightback. Really?! " Nick!" I fumed. " Do something! Don't just let someone trash you like that! Honestly! You're supposed to be Mr. Streetsmart!"

Nick bent over my door again, picking at the stopper.

" Nick," I snapped, " Will you sit up and talk to me about this for a second?"

He slowly tugged it out from under the door, eyeing the edges and sniffing hard.

" Nick!" He's doing it on purpose now, wasn't he?

Nick laid flat on the floor, peering under the door. " Come here," he said firmly, " No- what's-" he sat there for a good while, sighed, "Come in and explain!"

What?

A mouse crawled under the door, shaking his head hard once he crawled all the way through. Not Luke, though, too dark, and green ran over to me, and it was when he got close that I could hear the sobbing. " Miss Judy!" He bawled, " Please- my uncle, he's-" he gulped, " Luke's gone nuts!"

He looked familiar.


	16. Chapter 16: I Hope You're RightPatience

**Chapter 16: I Hope You're Right.**

I remember, Sarah. What will happen when I'm done?

* * *

There was one night, I think, that we killed three folk. A hare, a wolverine, and some sort of cat. Kept the blood, as always, but this time we walked away from home rather than back.

Panya chuckled, paws clasped. "I'm so proud of you all!" she said, "I'm beaming, boys. Wonderful job. "

John stood up a little straighter, swung his arms farther out. Victor nodded once, eyes stuck straight ahead. It was a quiet night, the streets nearly empty.

We had been walking a while now, a good ten minutes down the block past rows of battered-looking apartments.

Victor paused, peering up at the awning above us. "Funeral home..." he said, " Is that...? Nah. " He sighed, shook his head, " Sarah, you could just pour that out in the park. Lots of dead things there."

I stared up at the sign, seeing nothing but a jumble of odd characters. Pho? Banh mo? It looked like some sort of restaurant.

She shook her head, insisted we needed ashes. So we kept walking.

She wanted to visit a crematorium before we went home. It had something to do with Kali, making her happy.

Hours of wasted time, all for a few minutes of her speaking gibberish. It was better than sitting at home, I suppose. But still! Why do it?

" Panya," I muttered, falling in step with her. She smiled wide, reached out to grasp my shoulder.

" Luke, very nice job today," she said " very good, very clean." She licked her lips, peered at the doors we passed by, "What is it, huh? I promise, we're almost done, just a small trip."

" About all this, " I asked. "The thing with Kali...Is that something from the last Panya?"

Panya frowned, shook her head. "No!" she snapped, " As if! He was all about the sneaking and gutting- just a big thug!"

" But don't we-" I paused, watching her glare at me, " I- How are we different?"

Why dress this business up? We did good, yes, but why the ritual?

Sarah huffed. John glanced back at us, tensing a little.

"Kali," she said reverently, "gives us a chance to earn something, do something useful with our natural gifts. " She pulled her arm back, poked my side. "I've told you, how many times?"

" A chance to become something better," I heard John say, " Right? Something powerful."

John had come back to us, frowning at me. Victor had kept on walking.

Sarah had her arms crossed, frowning at me.

"Okay," I said, paws out, "Okay. But- Just-" I sighed, " We keep losing folk and- and I don't feel like all that singing actually helps. Why put on a show? "

John shifted from foot to foot. " Listen," he said, " You need to watch your mouth, be a little more grateful, okay? No one asked-"

" Hey, Johnny," Victor said, loping up beside him, " Didn't you tell me the other day how much you hated all the time wasted? That you wanted to get us more focused." He smiled slightly.

I don't remember the two of them ever talking. But I don't think Panya cared.

She swore she'd change our minds one day. It wouldn't do to have doubters.

* * *

Panya bowed down low, nose almost tapping the ground. She took a deep breath, stood straight. " Om, Sri Maha Kalikayai Namah. Thank you for our safety."

She reached to her side, grabbed the vial full of blood. She slowly poured it out onto the sidewalk.

John shifted from foot to foot, nose wrinkling. Victor was watching the street, back turned to us.

Panya finished pouring out the blood, letting a small amount rest on a claw-tip.

" Tainted blood, Mother," she murmured, " Bitter, but no longer causing harm. May it bring us good fortune. Namostute. Namo."

The wind blew, hard enough to shake some leaves off a nearby tree. John jumped, looked around.

She glanced at us in turn, smiling slightly. "Is there anyone we want to remember tonight?" she said, voice soft. " So many that are so dear..."

She mentioned all the dozens we lost by name, made a speech about how we'd see them again one day.

" Be joyful, boys!" she said, " They'll be back in better bodies, stronger ones. No more being a fragile little speck." She chuckled. " And they were just your normal, every day mouse! Imagine us! We'll come back as... ah, maybe jackals? Something strong."

Panya looked to inspire us, to not fear death. We would get new bodies for doing so much good, at the end. And all we had to do was keep the faith.

Victor never showed interest. John would try and chant with her.

I don't know. I hope she's right. It was better than sitting at home moping, wasn't it?

* * *

 **Chapter 16.5: Patience.**

It amazed me how large these schools were- it would have taken me days to walk the whole campus! This room, an auditorium, this is where I'd meet my target, and if I did it right...

Marcus and his fox-friend would be here, a few among many who would speak out. Would they be in the front rows, looking for me? I doubt anyone could see me, tucked in the back of the stage. Would they watch, try to stop me?

I heard him before I saw him. He stomped his way from the back rooms, clearing his throat. An ugly thing, all bristles with a mushed-up face, nose snuffling. The smell coming from him was disgusting-rotting fish and trash on the docks was more pleasing! He moved past me without a second's pause, instead gazing out onto the audience. I heard some of the students murmur amongst themselves, some angry.

It would've been so easy, then! Just a hop and a jab, and he'd be dead in minutes. I could feel my body tense up at just the thought. Finally, an end, after so long!

Ah, but he passed too quickly, and the feeling passed. Let him talk, let him die at the right moment. This has to go beyond me.

Eventually the noise died down, and the boar fumbled with something in his... paws? I heard something click above my head, and the lights dimmed. Most of the light now came from above my head.

The boar introduced himself, a doctor of this and that, how he was so honored to speak at his old university. Nonsense.

" Not only am I proud to have come from this university," he said, " I am proud to have been born in one of the greatest cities in the world- Zootopia." He paused, paced the stage. " We have that name for a reason, I believe. Not only do we have the greatest amount of diversity in the world, but also some of the most progressive legislation..."

I heard a click above my head, and he continued.

" However!" he said, " that level of progression does not extend to every member of our wonderful society."

I heard shuffling from the audience, some small murmurs. I took the opportunity to sidle closer, enough to see the edge of the stage, some of the students staring up, wide-eyed.

" Mice and rats, yes? The murid population, " the boar said, " have not had the same opportunities as the rest of us- lack of high-paying jobs, short life-spans..." Another click from above my head, a shift in the light on the stage.

I moved up as fast I could, listening to the man drone on about simple facts. Still not the right moment. Wait for the controversy.

Ah, Irene... So soon, I promise.

"-why help when the cost is so high and the return so low?" I heard, " How can we maintain a system of care with such a fast mortality rate? With a vast majority of them uneducated, and all very likely to use that support inefficiently? There is clear evidence that-"

That is when the crowd became upset, and when I tensed myself. A quick run, a well-aimed leap, and I got a good puncture in his leg.

The scary part was the pig falling, almost squishing me under that bulk of his. He stumbled, fell on his back and started screaming. What a surprise, seeing all that blood on the floor!

He swatted at me, cried for help. One, two, three stabs up the leg, trying to dig past the tough flesh. It was like trying to punch through concrete.

I heard the students scream, felt the shake of the room as everyone started moving.

Maybe his face? The mouth, the eyes? Just a quick run-

The pig kept kicking, though, and I couldn't keep a grip. A big enough jostle and I fell off near his side, into the blood. I picked myself up fast enough to see folk running towards the stage.

I would've been done with this if I hadn't run!

I had thought my own family would understand, would want to help. No! My own nephew, telling on me, weeping and howling like he did... Disgraceful! Having to hide from my own family, from the eyes of those police...

If I had just struck a bit deeper, just held on a bit longer... Idiot! I could have been done with this months ago, been free of this.

* * *

Now, me and Judy were sure we would catch the mice on the apartment stairs, or in the lobby, but no dice. No one we spoke to had a clue of our guy, some of them were surprised that there were mice in the building. We checked the streets, asked all the nearby businesses. Nothing.

That was three weeks ago, and from then until now we'd been combing the streets, doing the best we could to keep an eye on 'areas of high risk', and making sure potential victims were alright.

Good on paper, and no one had died yet, but no results. The Mayor was... not happy- the conference he gave last week called us 'diligent but in desperate need of information'.

I made my way down the stairs, rubbing my forehead. Judy tagged behind.

" Judy," I said, " What would you do?"

Gomez, the pig's old colleague, wouldn't leave, said it would mess up the last few weeks of summer term. Today would be our second time asking.

She sighed, " I- we have to watch him for a big longer. The mouse can't have left the city, so we can't- Oh, but..."

She shook her head, continuing down the sidewalk. Every now and again she'd glance at her feet, scanning. We really were reduced to a lucky glance.

The day went by as it had for the past couple weeks: patrol, ask civilians about our suspect, check on high-risks.

Back in our patrol car, Judy edged us around the corner and onto the main road. " I think," she said, " He's hiding in a hotel, probably trying to find his room and jump him."

This would be the third time we went over this theory. It usually involved a half hour of arguing and not getting anywhere.

" It wouldn't take that long to look!" She argued. " I'm sure we'd find prints on the guest book, or him skulking in the hallway..."

" They computerize all the guest stuff," I countered, " and no one's called about a mouse. We can't just sit in the lobby."

Judy grumbled, shook her head. " But who would notice? I'm telling you-"

Back and forth. We'd break this up once we got out the car to look around and talk to folk, but it would eventually come up again.

I dunno. I feel like he'd die wandering around out there eventually, and the case would end up cold. Jude did say he was old for a mouse.

* * *

Ah, but old memories won't do me any good now. I won't find him by daydreaming.

I had thought the pig would be easy to find, but there's nothing, no one talking about him! Wouldn't there be some controversy? A newspaper headline?

Was he the only pig in town? It can't be that hard to spot him in a crowd.

A rabbit, plodding down the street. No children, surprisingly. Too fat to find a mate, then.

Some sort of cat, ears flicking, face angry.

A weasel, paws twitching, eyes darting with fear.

A sheep, wool matted and dirty, eyes constantly glancing up at the larger folk above him.

A few mice, cringing at every close step. Averting their eyes when they came close, edging away.

A rat, fur patchy and stinking, one eye missing.

No pigs! Every day watching, going around and hoping...

Day after day, after day.

So close, so close. Please don't let all this go to waste.


	17. Chapter 17: Doing What I Think is Best

**Chapter 17: Doing What I Think is Best**

 **(A/N: I did it guys, an actual update! I hope it's up to all of your standards.)**

* * *

" ' Come, Miss Oliver,' said I. ' We will have to walk. I am very sorry, but there is no other way." She looked at me with big, innocent, reproachful eyes. She had a very sweet, childlike voice. She made no move. " ' I know you are going to kill me,' she said so sorrowfully, and with such sweet simplicity and directness, that I started guiltily at the very candour of the accusation. ' Do kill me here,' she continued. ' Do not kill me on the mountainside, and let me roll down the hill. The one thing I dread after death is to have to roll down long hills.'

" There was no use to argue. She was insane."

\- Murray, _Memoirs of a Detective_

* * *

I stretched my leg, feeling my foot hit up against the wall. Holding in a yawn, I focused back on the two mice in front of me.

"- and, you know, we knew, sure, but we didn't think it was anything this major," she said, paws clasped and eyes wide. " I knew Luke was upset about Irene, but not to this extent."

The mouse paused, glancing at her son, cringing behind her. Marcus, Luke's nephew. " I- It was terrifying!" he blurted out, " To go in and think everything was normal, and then he gets all shout-y, grabbing at me..." Marcus shook his head, gripping at his mother's arm.

She begged us to find him, get him help.

Nick pulled himself up off the floor, brushing the dust off. He stretched, watching me say good night and goodbye before I got myself up next to him.

He waited until we were a good way down the hallway before talking. He leaned against the wall, keeping his voice low.

" No picture, no way to ID him," he groused, " No car, and Carol's video..." he sighed. " Did you guys manage to pull anything out of it?"

" Definitely a mouse that did it, and a yellowish one." I said, " Not clear enough to make out a face, though. Just looks like a blob no matter what. "

I sighed, and Nick sucked his teeth. " Did- We missing anything?" He said, " Contacted close family, friends, place of employment... No phone, no car..."

" Marcus knows more than he's saying," I noted, " Just need to grill him some more." There had to be something with him- no way you visit your uncle and notice this all of a sudden, or wait to report it.

The main reassurance was that Luke wouldn't leave the city, not unless he heard about Cornell leaving. Nick had mentioned that he would be surprised if the mouse could even reach the train station in less than a few weeks.

Nick pulled out his phone, checking the time. " Oh... Hey, you want to come get a smoothie with me? Maybe we walk around a bit and hash stuff out." He paused. " Or just talk." He tapped at his phone, muttering that it was only a five minute walk from here.

8:00 p.m., not too late, but tomorrow would be just like today- talking with every potential lead, having Vicks go over my notes. Listening to his critiques.

But, calm time with Nick. At the very least, a good way to relax before turning in for the night.

I nodded, and he smiled. It was nice to see- it had been a while since I'd seen him genuinely smile.

Nick made his way to the stairs. "Jahlookova isn't far, Jude." he said. " C'mon."

* * *

Nick peered out the front door, watching the lightning flash outside. Stepping partway out the door, he stuck a paw out.

" Drizzling..." he murmured. " You care about getting a little wet?"

I stepped past him, watching the rain patter against the ground, the folk running past to get under an awning.

" It's not that bad," he said confidently, as a car drove past and sent a big wave of water splashing along the sidewalk. One guy that walked past us was soaked, started hollering.

I went back for an umbrella. Of course Nick had to say something once we got outside.

" Drama queen," he teased, ambling beside me. " It's just drizzling." He stepped past a puddle, scratching the back of his neck. " Little rain never hurt nobody."

Nick gave a small sigh, " You wanna do me a favor?" he said, " Let's focus on something positive, okay? No use going back and forth about something we can't control." He paused. " And don't say that music festival!"

I gave a big sigh, pretended to think. " How about Thom?" I suggested. " Plenty positive." Nick shook his head, making me grumble. " A delay is a good thing!" I argued, " Means that his whinging isn't important."

Nick shook his head, " More positive than that." He stepped out the path of a man running down the sidewalk.

I looked around, noting a group of folk gaining behind us and the fair few spaced out ahead. Too many ears, so I got close to Nick and leaned in to whisper.

" We got the deleted texts off her cellphone. And Laura is backing them up." I murmured. Nick hmm-ed.

Getting Tabitha's texts was a nice break. We would've had them sooner, if we had a dongle that would fit her size phone. Still, it was solid evidence when you had texts trying to hash out a clean way to off someone. Apparently she considered putting bleach in hubby's food, wondered what the life insurance would pay.

I leaned back, eyes shifting to the folk ahead of us. Young kids, just chatting.

Nick hummed to himself, paws in pockets. I asked how he was feeling, and I got a 'just tired, busy day'. I asked him if he wanted to talk about it, and he promised to later. Quiet otherwise.

I think we both glanced down more often than not. Would he even be out here, in this kind of weather?

Nick took a sip of his smoothie. " So," he said, " The community outreach is going really well. I stopped getting yelled at by the moms; now it's just nasty looks."

" It should be Thom apologizing," I groused, " You didn't have anything to do with that."

Nick shook his head, watching a couple walk by. " Nah. Apparently I have a disgusting attitude to let that kind of talk happen, and they feel very dissapointed."

I was going to tell Thom off, but the look on Nick's face- he was drained. So, I asked how he was holding up.

" Not that bad," he said. He looked over at me, chuckled. " Really! I'm just tired, is all."

" You sure?" I asked.

" Mhm," he said. " We got enough happening right now as it is." He glanced over at me, studying my face. " And what about you, huh? I ain't been asking about you, Carrots. You been sleeping better?"

I would've said something if we hadn't bumped into Carol on the way back. She was walking out of a store when we saw her.

" Nick!" she squealed, running up to him and spreading her arms. " Did I help? Did last time do any good?"

Nick chuckled, smiled at her. " Of course you did! You're helping to bust this case wide open. Matter of fact, me and Judy were just talking about how much we appreciate you."

Carol was very clingy, already with a paw on his shoulder, leaning her face awfully close to his. He glanced down at his shake, putting it in the opposite paw to her.

Nick glanced over at me, Carol following suit. "Judy, hi!" She said excitedly, " You look so cute in purple!"

Wonderful.

I smiled, complimented her back. Nick slowly pulled his arm out of her grip. She followed us.

"Nicky," she said, " Did you try that plan we talked about?"

Nick took a very long sip of his shake, looking straight ahead.

" You're super smart," she said, trying to grasp his arm again, " And, you know, mind over matter. I think you could do it easy."

Nick's eyes followed the group of kids walking past us, staring at us. " I appreciate all the concern," he said slowly.

She left after the third time he pulled away from her, begging him to talk to her soon before scampering away.

* * *

We made it back to my building, tossed out the finished smoothies. Nick spent a good minute fussing over his wet shirt as we waited in the line of folk to get in. He idles by the door once I slipped inside, holding it open.

" I'll tell you what happened tomorrow," he promised, " I gotta go home and get some sleep, alright?"

I wrapped up my umbrella, slinging it onto my wrist. " You don't want to come upstairs for a bit?" I asked. We still had time before it got too late, after all.

He opened his mouth, thought for a second. " I gotta sleep," he said, after a pause, " Tomorrow we got all day, don't we? And I gotta pick up after Finn, and-"

I sighed, and I swore he chuckled at me. " I'll be nice," he said teasingly, " I can offer you one hug and that's it." He let go of the door, held an arm out.

I don't think he was expecting me to barrel into him like I did, but he managed to give me a good enough hug, rain-soaked or not. Still warm.

I stretched up a little, enough to reach his ear. " Thanks for getting me here," I said, " I know that you got all these folk tearing at you and making things a pain, but I got your back no matter what." I squeezed him tight, heard him be all dramatic and start coughing.

He patted my back, squeezed back. " Trust me, I know," he said, " I just-" I glanced up at him, saw him smile, his eyes get some life in them. "- You help a lot."

He went home. I regret that I didn't put up more of a fight about it, but he looked like he needed the rest. Tomorrow will be better.

* * *

Nick put his MetroCard back in his wallet, staring around at the crowd. " You sure it's today?" He said, " I mean, Claremont Park was right there."

There was a music festival in Garvey Park today. It'd be more fun than going jogging in Claremont again.

" I'll buy lunch if I'm wrong," I promised, " And we got some museums we could go to anyway."

Nick stared at the gaggle of stooped-over old folk crowded on the sidewalk, squabbling over if they had enough in their oxygen tanks to last the whole day.

" Judy," he muttered, " I think we gotta talk about your choice in-"

The traffic behind us slowed, dipped to the side. Two police cruisers went by with lights and sirens on, honking frantically. Another cruiser and ambulance went by next. The noise didn't die out- I could see a couple of the cruisers sitting at the corner. Someone blew a whistle, and there were screams, folk running past us.

Nick and I ran towards the screaming.

* * *

Nick coughed hard, taking in a deep breath as we made it to the scene. The officer we found getting folk away was new, told us that there was a stabbing on the block and that it was a mess right now. ' A mouse,' he said, surprised, 'Jumped a dude, won't talk to nobody'.

Finally!

I found the sergeant further in, trying to calm down some civilians that hadn't left yet.

" Hey!" he called, turning from the civvie, " Hopps! Didn't you get jumped by these guys?" He glanced over the roof of his car, grimaced. " How'd you contain them?"

I scrambled over next to him, stood on the car door saddle. Peeking over the hood of his car, I could see a tiny speck on top of a bloodied pig, sparwled out on the ground. There was a negotiator out there, kneeling on the ground.

" EMTs can't get to the pig," the sergeant said, " I need the mouse off of him- Can we just run and scoop them up?"

" I-" I jumped down from the car, huffed, " That one likes to talk," I said, " If we can keep him talking, then maybe we can jump him."

Sergeant nodded, asked us to go around. Good! Jump him and we could finally put this to bed, save someone for once.

I turned to look for Nick, saw him run back from another huddle. " No stab vests," he said hurriedly, " So we better jump him good and clean." He showed me a small bucket, a rag tied to the handle, " Could push him into here, I think. Better than holding onto him."

Mouse on the left-hand sidewalk, so we went right. We waited until we heard the negotiator start up again, and we took it slow, hiding behind cars. I would peer over, and we'd run on my go. Hearing the pig groaning and screaming made me want to run, but we couldn't be seen!

It worked for the first few cars.

" Judy!" The negotiator called, " I need you here, now!"

Nick paused, crouched against a tire. " I just need another few minutes," he said. " Go."

I slowly walked out from the back of the car, towards the negotiator. He glanced between me and Luke constantly. " Look," he said, " Right here, Luke. What did you want to tell her?"

Luke said something I couldn't hear, and he waved me closer. I paused, then took a step. Still nothing. I had to kneel down less than an arm's length away to get anything discernable.

It wasn't a good view- Luke had dug into his ankle good, enough to tear a chunk of skin out. Throat slashed, a quarter-sized hole oozing blood. Eyes cut, scratched at. It looked like he had shoved that needle in one of them.

Luke laughed, paced back and forth on top of the pig's gut. " I did it, Judy!" he said triumphantly. " I did! And- And, you know? I didn't think it would be this-"

The pig screamed, kicked and swung around. Luke held on to his shirt, waited for him to settle.

Tazing him wouldn't work, I could have hit the pig. Not like we had anything that wouldn't have killed him, anyway. I had to fight to keep my paws off my side, though.

Luke smiled, " Don't worry," he said calmly, glancing back at the twitching pig under him, " I'm done, I promise. Just let him die and I'll come right along with you. I- Look-" He dug at his side, holding up a small vial- empty. " No more, all down his gullet. Okay?"

Luke held the vial with both paws, staring up at me, still smiling. If I shifted my weight, his eyes followed my feet, and he tensed himself.

He was skin and bones- fur was hanging off him unnaturally, ribs poking out. The color was darker than I remembered. Rain-soaked?

" Just a minute longer," he said, " Trust me, I missed the main artery."

"What did he do to you?" I said, keeping my tone flat and speaking slowly.

" I already had that question asked!" Luke protested. " Cornell is a liar! Promised us the world and then he took everything away, hurt so many folk, Judy."

" Like your wife." I said sadly. " She must've meant a lot to you."

Luke nodded, kicked at the pig's clothes. " He's the one that took her away, Judy." He said, " Promised us money, so much!"

He had sharpened his claws to a point, and even with some of them broke off, could make some deep wounds. Plus, with him living on the streets like that...

" I waited weeks!" He fumed, " Weeks! Not one word from this fat thing, no letters, no nothing. I try and find where he was, and I get told that he's not taking questions. But-"

He clambered over the pig's chest, kicked his snout. " He's gotten what he deserves!" He saw that I shifted forward, and he tensed again, " No! Just wait!"

I nodded, settled down. Luke glanced down at the pig, regarded the needle in his eye. He reached towards it.

Then Nick jumped, landing just short of the pig. He scrabbled forward and reached, paw grasping the mouse by the ear and tossing him into the bucket.

Luke hit the bottom with a thunk, and I saw Nick reach for the rag in his back pocket, trying to throw it over the top. He pushed himself away from the pig, using his legs to scoot back.

Everyone rushed in, and I ran to Nick, watching the bucket.

Cornell had left weeks ago, and someone else had to pay for whatever than man had done. A part of me hoped that Nick's toss had been lethal.

* * *

 **End of Part 1.**


	18. Chapter 18: Split Up & Search for Clues

**Part II**

 **Chapter 18: Split Up and Search for Clues**

* * *

 **(A/N: Part 2, Electric Boogaloo is here, everyone, after long periods of research and editing. Feel free to point out my mistakes, crime scene techs! I only did as I was told!)**

* * *

"They're just kids," I said, watching the traffic speed past us, " They're going to talk and make a lot of noise, that's all. It'll stop in a week."

Judy shook her head, glanced at the passing cars and pressed the button again. " I saw a lot of views on that video- A hundred thousand. And it's going up every day." She watched the crossing signal, waiting for the cars to stop.

I sighed. Someone had posted their copy of Cornell's speech, and a video of me tossing that mouse into a bucket. 720p and subtitles, too, just to make things more fun.

Chief didn't like it. The Mayor was basically having a stroke. Things were going great, basically.

One mouse murdering someone in broad daylight made for interesting headlines, had lots of folk throwing questions around. Some of them came to our station, said they had evidence on this or that, that they were scared of having mice in their building. Most of it, though, focused on what exactly should happen to the mice in the city.

Lots of folk were scared. How many millions of mice could there be, scurrying around in cracks? Skulking, going nuts one day and killing me in my sleep? They can just go under my door, for crying out loud! Do something, police!

Had to focus on today, though. More folk came up beside us, and we hushed up. Judy shifted from foot to foot, rocked on her heels. She took a long look at the guys crowding around us, watching their paws.

We stayed quiet the rest of the way to work.

* * *

Judy settled into the chair beside me, letting her feet kick out. I shifted closer to her, letting Vilkas go back to his phone.

" So how did you take longer when I'm the one with the uniform?" I said jokingly, " You get stuck outside?"

Judy winced, shook her head while fiddling with her shirt's fabric. " I dunno about the vest being so tight," she said testily, " I feel like I'm choking." Me saying it beat having to go through inspection got an eye-roll.

She sighed, took in the other folk in the room. Glanced at the floor, kept digging at her vest straps.

" I hate that this is happening now," she said, " The worst time to split us up..."

" I'll be fine," I said. " Even without your two lucky feet." I laughed a little, " And now I got more time to make jokes, hit you with the really bad ones."

Judy sighed, crossed her arms. " If you would've gone to Vicks and asked him like I told you," she said angrily, " then you wouldn't be alone, Nick. We'd be working on cases together, and-"

" There's no slots," I said, "and I can't keep asking every week, okay? You're in there for a year; Maybe I'll get to jump in in a few months."

She huffed, crossed her arms tighter. "Don't complain when you don't see me for a month."

" I'll be fine, Judy," I said reassuringly, "And I'll miss you too."

I swear I saw her lip quiver a bit, but roll started getting called before we could keep going.

She was being a little dramatic, I think- even detectives get days off. Obviously, she'd miss my amazing sense of humor and charm, but she'd have to manage.

Roll finished, along with a lesson on heroin overdose signs and uniform inspections-my gigline wasn't centered-and we got our callsigns for the day. I got to be 1-Charlie, alone in Striver's Row.

" Good luck," I told her as we headed out, " It'll go fine, watch."

* * *

Now that the mouse thing had calmed down, me and Nick had to split up- my training and his community stuff didn't link up. Vicks thought it was great- he wanted to see me do my own thing. 'I need to see you without his help,' he'd tell me. 'Show me why you deserve a spot.'

Vicks flicked his turn signal, easing into the lane. " So," he began, " ready for today?"

" Mhm," I said, " Ready to have the tech yell at me."

Vicks smiled, " Just watch where you step."

Today was another murder case, a suspected homicide in an apartment complex. Or, out of it, really. The guy who called found her in an alley, apparently. We would have to be quick, too- it would rain soon.

Once we found the complex, we got waved down by the officer keeping the civilians out, and ducked under the tape. The crime scene tech was tiptoeing around, fiddling with that infrared camera they had.

" Purple?" She muttered, gingerly edging around the body of our victim. "Orange, maybe?" She huffed, pulled open the side of her camera and slipped a filter in. The light coming from her camera started glowing orange, bright enough that it clearly shone on the concrete. " It had to be outside, just to make-"

She glanced over at us, "Watch your feet!" She said crossly, " in fact, don't move. You two will mess up-" she peeked down at her camera, knelt down and moved it around the body. "- I'm not done yet, still want to try some Amido on her. Give me another hour."

Vicks took a step back, glanced around at the scene. " In a minute." he looked down at me, " What's odd here, Judy?"

Okay. So, tiny alley, barely wide enough to fit the body. Fire escape on the right, with a dumpster at the far end. Victim splayed out on the concrete in the middle. Blood around the victim's mouth, and- were those oven mitts over her paws? Big ones too.

Vicks sighed, and I'll admit it made me a little nervous. Was I taking too long? I took a deep breath, felt the stab vest squeeze my lungs.

" I- um, huh." I leaned forward, taking note of her body. The tech went over to the dumpster, swabbing it with her brush and snapping pictures. " Okay, we have to ask about the mitts." Vicks stayed silent, and I took that as a cue to keep going. " Her clothes aren't torn up," I noted, " Not a whole lot of blood. Hm." No big slashes on her, no broken teeth. Her leg was broke, though, angled oddly.

Vicks mhm-ed, then went back to waiting. " Look at her head."

That would be kind of hard at my height, and it took him a second to remember. He told me to look around the fire escape, instead.

Ah! Open window on the fourth floor, and if there wasn't any visible stab wounds...

" She fell, got pushed?" I offered, " Maybe, um, we can get prints off the windowsill."

Vicks nodded. " Depends if she found something though," he said, chin nudging towards the investigator.

She was still talking to herself when we bugged her. " More rhodamine, maybe? Four-forty, orange-" She dug into a pack slung by her side, which meant she jumped a little when we called out.

To make a long rant short, no she didn't check the window yet and we were wasting her time. Did we want to lose our prints to rain? Did we know how humidity worked?

We figured now would be a good time to question witnesses. I couldn't help but thinking, though, if I made some good calls or not. Everything I said seemed so basic! Maybe I missed something?

A lot of the neighbors were waiting at the sidewalk, pretending that they hadn't been peeking when we came out.

Six grown adults waiting to give us details. Four of them gave us the same info- boyfriend and her always fighting, she was super stuck-up and odd. Apparently, she was a paw model- she'd hold stuff in commercials, so she wore those mitts to keep her paws safe from damage.

" She always talked about how she made thousands per photo," the neighbor said, " 'I've met celebrities, I'm one of the best models in the world.'" She sighed. " Big ego."

" Is there anyone you'd think would want to harm her?" I asked. She glanced down at me, back up to Vicks. She smiled a little before nodding. "Boyfriend, for sure. I think he got sick of her always whining."

Every neighbor we asked listed the other neighbors as the next most likely suspect. This lady was no different.

The officer on scene was a little more helpful. "Found her room," he began, " Signs of a struggle, you know, but no one has a clue where her boyfriend is. All they heard was her screaming."

We want to go check her place on the fourth floor. Thankfully, someone had blocked off the window approach with some tape. Still had to push past everyone crowding in the hallway though.

Pushing open her almost-shut door, the first thing we saw in her room was another scene tech, clicking away with his camera at a bunch of powder spread all over the floor. Thankfully, he didn't mumble as loudly as his partner downstairs, and when he noticed us, he didn't make a fuss.

" Hey Vicks, Rudy. " he said cheerily, " Uh, so, I need you two to just stay still. I need five more minutes on the floor here, 'kay? Don't touch anything."

I think he was the same tech from a case last week. Some sort of cat, small body with long legs and big ears. A serval?

Vicks looked around, paws in pockets. "Outside, Rudy." he told me, voice light. "Let's get everyone cleared out."

Vicks wheeled around, waded into the crowd of folk in the hallway. "If anyone would like to give some testimony-" he called, only to be drowned out by the group, " I need everyone who doesn't-" They kept on drowning him out, enough that he raised his voice to try and shout over them. They stopped arguing amongst themselves, paused to take Vicks in, and started arguing with him.

I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach; today _was_ going to be productive, just give it time...

* * *

Nick scratched his head, kneeling down to look closer at the spray bottle. "And you don't know who left this here?" He sniffed hard, glancing down at the floor.

" Nope." I said. I had woken up today and found the bottle sitting at the end of the hallway, with all the stuff in it sprayed all over the floor; a whole mess of blue right now, that stunk bad.

Nick glanced around, hmm-ed. He sniffed again, made a face. "Do you all have mice?" he said. I shrugged, and he scooted closer to the walls, almost putting his head to the floor.

" Hello?" he said, peering into one of the holes in the wall. He waited a bit, dug at his belt to get a flashlight. He sat there for a while, shining the light around.

" Find anything?" I said. " Do you need me to-"

Nick tapped his radio, mumbled something about Charlie and buses. " James, go outside and wait for the ambulance," he said, eyes still focused on the hole. " Tell them there's a buncha mice that aren't breathing, okay?"

Oh, jeez.


	19. Chapter 19: Bonding With the Community

**Chapter 19: Bonding With the Community**

 **(A/N: Chuck E. Cheese, for those who don't know, is a children's entertainment place. You win prizes in exchange for tickets. The mascot is a mouse, who used to have a terrifying costume. Yes, this is important. Tyke the elephant was an elephant who went crazy during a circus in Hawaii, and Richard Goetz was an American who shot some muggers in a NY subway. This will become relevant soon, feel free to guess why.)**

* * *

The cameraman tiptoed around, using their paint brush to spread some sort of powder on the floor, along that mouse-hole in the wall. He tried to keep clear of the piles of goop on the floor. Smelled like paint.

" Did you touch the bottle?" he asked, not looking up. Nick said no, and camera-guy nodded, reached into the bag by his side." Alright. I need y'all to leave, please. Let me work."

That camera he had with him was odd-looking- like one of those old handheld cameras and the big movie ones had a baby. He kept fiddling with it, shining it on the floor and changing the colors around. Purple, red, orange, yellow. Had some big orange goggles on his head too.

I felt someone nudge me. " James," Nick said, " C'mon. I need you to help me with something." I started to back away, saw some guys come up from behind with yellow tape.

Turning around, I saw that everyone had crowded up in the hallway, some of them peeking in from the stairs. Nick asked everyone to back up, to not crowd the scene.

" If anyone has any sort of idea what happened," he said, " I'd like you to step to the side and I'll talk to you in-" he stopped, staring at the cellphone in Ms. Nowak's paws. "- in private." He said firmly. " I can't have you filming right now, Miss. Can you please-"

" No I can't!" she said angrily. " I don't want you going around, into folk's houses, touching things that don't-"

Nick asked her to please not do that, she kept going on about him snooping, and the folk that had stayed to talk whispered to each other, watching.

The ferret wrinkled his nose, shook his head. " I'm 100% sure!" he said, arms waving. " I saw that Panyo guy on the news, and I heard those mice whispering about him. Had to be gang-related."

Nick nodded. " And who do you think would-"

" Can I finish?" The ferret snapped, " You're very rude." He sighed, " So! Those mice been running around here, right? Swear to God they been going into folk's homes, stealing shit. They could've hurt someone, right? And- And- Can you wait? I bet you someone wanted to get back at them. "

Nick nodded. " And who-"

" And there's so many of them!" The ferret said. " I couldn't even- Everyone in the building was scared when the news came out, you know. And, uh, you know, you have to take measures to protect yourself, right? We've all been talking about what to do if those little things went nuts. Ain't gonna wait for you guys to come and cap them."

Nick waited a second, then nodded. "Mhm."

" You ever hear of Chucky Cheese?" The ferret said, voice dropping. " That's that New World Order crap, man. That's- that's how they're creeping up on us."

There was a long silence. I glanced over at the four folk standing at the other end of the hallway. All frowning. Ms. Nowak was muttering to herself, phone camera pointed towards us.

Nick scribbled something on his notepad, the ferret walked away. He glanced over at me, gave a small smile. " Was he right, James?" he said. " Everyone was afraid of these mice?"

I nodded. " Lots of the older folk, they kept talking about how there wasn't as many mice when they were kids, how they were out to get them. You know- 'They're gonna go crazy!' "

Nick hmm-ed. "They talk about Tyke the elephant? A guy named Goetz?"

" I- uh. I dunno." I shrugged.

" Okay." he said, tilting his head. " You can go home, I gotta-"

Ms. Nowak started hollering again, saying that Nick shouldn't be in the building and that she was going to send the recording to his boss.

Nick shooed me away, turning to the crowd.

* * *

" Make sure you lock the door!" Mama said, as I stepped inside. " You left it wide open last night, and God knows what could've happened, Jr."

I sighed, pushed up against the door and twisted the lock hard- I dunno what it was, but I had to push the door in to lock it now. Otherwise it'd jiggle out if I pulled on it.

Mama watched me from the couch, paws holding onto the TV remote.

" You had fun with Mr. Wilde?" she said, " Learn anything new?"

Mama didn't like my answer that much.

* * *

A big thing, but calm now- skulking around here, all dressed up in a uniform like that made it better. No need to be here, at all! But, just keep the camera on him...

It was a little disturbing to see his nose twitch so, his eyes darting around. He'd look back and see me sometimes, and I could swear I saw his mouth curl, a little bit of fang poke out. An ugly thing, I know. Much too big of a nose, gangly arms. And that stench!

" Miss!" he called, " Please, can you not record me? I'm trying to get testimony and you've been making everyone feel very uncomfortable."

I stuck the phone out more, watching the little box come up around the Fox's head. Good! Recording still, and with a clear view.

The fox snorted, turned back to the man he was interrogating- a, what were they? The ones that turned white in winter-; It was a heated talk, oh yes! Much of a raised voice from the- the stint?- lots of complaining. Mr. Stint was certainly angry, though- voice would come out so shaky, and all the anger made his body shudder and sway.

" You're scaring a whole bunch of folk," the stint said, " getting into things that no cops need to be dealing with. Neighborhood watch has got this, alright? We can, we-"

The fox mumbled something, and the stint poked him in the chest. " No! You ain't got no right to be coming in here and trying to get into folk's homes, trying to chat up all the young kids." The stint stood up higher, still poking the fox. " What you doing trying to talk to all the females for, huh? You ain't got no business talking with-"

" I just got here, boss." The fox protested. " all I need is for you to-"

Another poke from the stint, hard enough to get his claws stuck in that vest of the fox's.

The stint shook his head, brought up all the issues the fox had been ignoring- we didn't want higher rent, more folk around here! Who said we wanted you around, wanted you messing with our youth?

And, deservedly, that fox got a good swipe across the face. Tried to swing back like the brute he was.

* * *

There was a hard knock at the door, making Mama jump a little. I checked through the peephole, and Brian was staring back at me, grinning. I popped the door open and got an earful right away.

" Fight downstairs!" he said, all cheery, " Nathan's getting beat up by the cop, dude. You gotta come see!"

I glanced back to see Mama frowning, arms crossed. I knew she was gonna give me an earful, but it wasn't like I'd be in any trouble. Plus, I could say I was checking on Mr. Nick...

I heard her shout at me when I walked out, but we made it to the stairwell quick, got down the stairs in time to run in to a crowd all peeking in through the door. Too many big heads to see clearly, but you could hear dudes banging into the walls and stuff. Some old lady cheering, lots of cussing...

Someone fell into the doorway, and the guys holding the door open jumped back. Dude's paw almost got torn up by the door, but someone stuck an arm out and held it open.

Whoever it was all squished by the door, they was crying their eyes out. " I'm sorry!" Oh, that was Nathan, "Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

A big thud, lots of flailing by the door. " Y'all need to move!" That was Nick. " Now!" I almost got knocked over by everyone running up the stairs, and had to rush to join everyone up on the next landing. Nick shoved the door open with his shoulder, holding Nathan up by his collar and pulling him along. Wasn't easy though- Nathan kept crying and kicking, trying to grab onto the stairs. Nick kept on dragging him along, though, and kept staring straight ahead.

Miss Nowak trailed behind, going on about how she had it all on film and how he was so screwed.

Nathan had his shirt tore up a bit, and it looked like cracked his claws- one whole paw had nothing but spiky stubs. Shoving past some of the guys let me see better; Nick's vest was all torn up in the front, enough that- jeezus- were those Nathan's claws stuck in there? His face didn't look good either- big old gash on his nose. Oh jeez.

" Ugh, damn," Brian mumbled, watching Nick slowly stomp down the stairs, " We missed it."

* * *

Vicks let his cigarette hang, pacing around the parking lot, eyes glued to the clipboard he was holding. Eventually, he came back over to me, walking with me into the station and back to his desk. He didn't say anything until we sat down again.

I got graded every day, and enough low scores got me kicked out of training. Maybe my Social score went up? I had to have asked some good questions today! And that was with all those neighbors!

He leaned back into his chair, glanced at me. " That was okay." he said. " I like the effort, Rudy." He smiled a little.

Dammit!

I left for home after a lecture on asking good questions. It made me feel so good, really, and it definitely wasn't the reason I called Nick. Late out, anyway, and I needed some company on the way home.

" Judy!" Nick said, " Hey, Detective. I got the biggest scoop for you, let me tell you." It sounded like was trying not to laugh. " Judy- hey- I got a murder plot going on here."

Oh God. Was it another dumb joke? " File it with the department, Nick." I said. Just get the joke out the way so I can vent, Nick. Please, I know this will be bad.

" But Judy," Nick protested. " They're gonna kill Chuck E. Cheese, Judy. All my witnesses said so!" He started laughing, made a noise like he stubbed his toe. " Ow! But, you know, I'm gonna follow up on that, let you know."

I kept pacing behind a guy in front of me, watching him argue with someone on his phone. " Alright," I said, hearing him sigh. Did he expect me to laugh at his stuff? " You doing okay by yourself?"

Nick uh-huhed. " Me and the kids are getting on better- they like having someone new to to talk to." He sighed, "Some of the parents are still a pain, though!" he complained, " The girls still look at me all weird. Might need your help on that."

Couldn't hurt to go on the weekend. But at least things were going okay over there! Maybe Nick will have a week without something stupid happening. Maybe we could even try and hit a whole month of normal for once!

* * *

We waited until we thought everyone on the floor settled down to come out and check out the scene. Most of the gunk was still there, and the smell! I swore I felt my throat closing up just by being outside.

Jerry stomped his foot, staring at the mess in the hallway. "That ain't right, dude!" he fumed. " They- all of them?! And no one stood up, dude?" Jerry turned to me, pointed around to the neighbors' homes. " I bet you we can find who did it! They got some more of that stuff inside, and I ain't going to let them do that to me! Nope!"

" Jerry," I cautioned, " That's jail time, dude. We just go somewhere else, you know, and-" Jerry waved me off, starting walking around to folk's doors and checking for cracks.

" Watch!" he told me, " I'm not letting this dude get away with it. That cop will come back to some real proof, watch!"


End file.
